What's In a Name
by Cosmic Sky
Summary: One could argue they'd survived the easy part, now came the thing that warriors like Byleth and Catherine struggled to maintain, and enjoy-peace. With said peace comes planning for the future, their future. Before all that though both are going to have to make peace with the past. For Catherine, it's a past she's run as far as possible from; for Byleth, it's one he's never known.
1. Chapter 1-Here Comes the Rain

**After some slight delays, I'm happy to present the sequel I envisioned to "Things Worth Fighting For", and prequel piece to "Knight and Demon", sorta. Obviously, this is post Azure Moon, but with some personal headcanon interpretations. There'll be some romance, but also some emotional and family drama as you'd expect when a relationship goes public in a…complicated time. **

**I do not own anything.**

* * *

_**Chapter 1-Here Comes the Rain**_

"I heard he's midget."

There was a dismissive scuff the Dark Knight sitting near the head of the table. "Now, look, I know we all may hate the little upstart bastard, but he's no midget. Trust me, I was there when those kingdom upstarts laid siege to the Imperial Palace. Though he's not quite as tall as that bastard king, the kid's got some height to him."

"Did you cross blades with the Ashen Demon?" Inquired another member of the table, an Armored Knight who'd been kind enough to remove his helmet revealing a head full of bright red hair and sea-green eyes. But not the rest of his armor. Lying at his side was his pristine silver axe.

There was another grunt, this one far deeper. The knight's gauntlet-covered fingers lightly dug into the wooden table upon which the six assembled Imperials sat at. Compressed malice swirled in his eyes as he looked at each of his compatriots. "No, but my brother did. He now rests with our parents and our countrymen including the Emperor herself. Like the rest of you, I yearn to even things out. By any means necessary."

A dark silence took hold of the small meeting chamber, not even the late-night wind outside could be heard. Internally speaking, on the other hand, the men and women were adrift in a raging sea of anger and animosity. There was little need to speak what already felt burning within their hearts, some more passionately than others.

Malicious laughter rolled through the room. Rather than inspire, it chilled the bones of the six Imperial officers who'd occupied the room. Their meeting hadn't exactly been complete as there was one member missing. They, or more accurately she, wasn't particularly someone that the six felt comfortable in interacting with. There was dealing with the rowdy and unruly, and then there was dealing with the absolute insane. The six Imperials all felt that way about conversing with the pale-skinned Gremory who quite literally emerged from the shadows to join them. Her hood fell down revealing a hand full of ashen gray hair and equally paled skin. It was entirely possible had the woman lived an ordinary life on the surface her face would have held more color, but alas, like the rest of her kind, she'd spent her life submerged underground.

Personally, the six Imperial remnants would have preferred to keep it that way, but things were beyond their control. Besides, just as their late Emperor had kept the dark sorcerers close at hand to better watch them, so too would they. While they had nowhere near the power they used to, a majority wanted to believe that they had enough to keep the remains of those who slither in the dark at bay. Or at least long enough for them to take their revenge then send them back into the ground where they came from.

Until then, they would continue to walk among them. And hopefully they would aid them in sending their loathsome enemies to the graves that had been so thoroughly dug out for them.

"Ah, hatred, it warms my heart to see its invigorating fires have not faded from your hearts." Chuckled the woman taking her seat at the far end of the table. One would have been forgiven for thinking she was the head of it; or not, considering that some looked rather uncomfortable at the set up of things. The foreign woman sat at the end while to her side sat the Imperial remnants, the resistance as they were being called. It was an unflattering label, but one the dark sorceress knew suited them all quite well. No longer were they an army, the strongest army on Fódlan, they were nothing but remnants. Just like her. "Now then, I suppose we should get to discussing how best to use that hated instead of letting it just simmer, though that itself can be quite entertaining."

"Pittacus!" Roared the Dark Knight, the apparent leader of the group. "We didn't convey to listen to you prattle on! We all assembled here tonight to discuss a way to remove the blight on this land that is the Ashen Demon! That upstart! That murderous little bastard! Can you or can you not help us infiltrate Garreg Mach so that we may remove his vile head from his shoulders!" There was a murmur of agreement from the other heads at the table, the Adrestian heads anyway.

The pale-skinned sorceress looked to the veteran knight with a mixture of disdain and mild curiosity. Normally, she would have had his head for speaking to her in such a manner, but times were tough and desperate action was needed. Incredibly desperate action. "The Ashen Demon, the _Fell Star_, yes. If we were to topple him then we could perhaps cripple that one-eyed beast as well, hehehe, we'd send all of Fódlan careening back into chaos."

"We'd take back what was rightfully ours." Corrected the heavy-armored knight with a pointed glare. "Know this, we do not share your seething hatred for the boy."

"Don't you?" Pressed the ancient woman drumming her fingers along the wooden table. "If it weren't for that boy, all of Fódlan would be under flying the colors of the Imperial Flag."

"Yes, and your kind would be back in the dustbin of history where your kind belong." Snarled one of the members, a Dark Bishop with a jagged scar running across the bridge of his nose. It seemed his disdain for the foreigner wasn't being as hidden as his compatriots.

To her credit, Pittacus brushed off his words and gaze with a dismissive snort. Mostly. The side glare she shot the fellow dark magic user was nothing short of purely venomous. "As I'm sure you all most know, especially you, Othmar, what we are dealing with is pure destruction condensed into the form of a beast. One that wields the Sword of the Creator…"

"The King of Liberation reborn." Grunted the Dark Knight, Othmar.

The aside glare he was shot went largely unnoticed. "Thief, that's all he was, just as all this brat is. Stealing away that which doesn't belong to him, stealing away from the proper owners. It's no wonder that accursed woman chose to pass her title onto him. Cut from the same cloth I suppose."

"Should we not strike at the Ashen Demon before he is formally coronated?" Spoke up one of the members. While the former prince's coronation had been a somewhat rushed affair, things would likely be different for the title of Archbishop, especially after such a massive uproar against and within the church. "Would it not be best to strike then? At which point we'll have amassed what forces we can?"

"Feeling bold, are we?" Offered the pale-skinned woman knitting his fingers together with a growing sneer on her face. "To implant such a plan we would need inside operatives feeding us accurate information. Should anything go array, I need not explain what fate will await you all."

"And _you_, Pittacus." Added Othmar with pointed eyes. "You're going to be waiting just as much on this as the rest of us, meaning should things go south you'll share in the punishment. Perhaps more so than us considering your list of crimes is far graver than ours."

What came out was something between a snort of dismal and a laugh of pure arrogance. "Ah, Othmar, comparing me to the rest of you, you are lucky that I am in a forgiving mood."

"The rest of us?!" barked Dark Bishop, his hair scooting back while his gloved hands slammed against the table causing it to shake. Magical energy surged through his body super-charging the air itself and causing a very noticeable change in the atmosphere on multiple levels. Some at the table shifted uncomfortably, even those in armor like the second in command. "You are little more than a worm that wasn't washed away with the rest of your kind by the floodwaters! You're no different than us, sneaking around and biting at scraps to sustain yourself!"

"How dare you, you pathetic excuse of a sorcerer!" Snapped back the gray-haired woman, her dark eyes suddenly ablaze with murderous fury. A second later and it wasn't just her eyes; Pittacus raised her right hand, dark energy swirling about her palm in the face of a screaming face. It nicely complimented the look of vile spite that had colored the subterranean woman's face. Any second the blast would likely be let loose upon the Adrestian Dark Bishop, who'd no doubt respond to the blast with his own. "You should consider yourselves lucky I'm standing here using my time to consort with you animals! Nay, you all should be lucky that we Agarthans are even willing to associate with you maggots, you who were supposedly the strongest nation on the continent, yet were beaten down by mere roaches led by a crazed beast and reanimated corpse! If anything, the fault lies with you Adrestians, your incompetence!"

That was the last straw. The air itself finally exploded like a crack of thunder, the last prelude before the storm. Those around the table followed their instincts and attempted to move out of the blast zone as tensions between the Agarthan Gremory and the Adrestian Dark Bishop finally hit their boiling point. Some knew that this outbreak of violence was likely inventible, but they were at least hoping they'd be able to get some actual planning in before things went sour. So much for that hope.

Or that would have been the case if the leader of the remaining Imperials didn't act. His own rage had been mounting and it too had finally boiled over with Pittacus' words. Albeit, unlike his compatriot, he was able to reign his fury in quick enough to step in. His hand went for his sword, refined combat instincts allowing for him to unsheathe the weapon then bring it down in a swift blur of silver. Very briefly, he tried to picture the minty-green-haired former mercenary on the other end of his blade. Rather than flesh and bone, wood splint in half, papers and documents flying about.

His intervention was just in time, stopping the clash between the two dark magic-users, or at least the physical clash. Their death glares continued.

"Our enemy…is the Church of Seiros and the Kingdom of Faerghus…and that bastard mercenary. Keep that in mind, both of you." Othmar snarled, his face contorted into that of a fearsome vintage resembling that of a beast. It was quite ironic as stories were often told of Tempest King's own feral expressions on the battlefield, more animal than human. In the heat of battle the new leader of House Blaiddyd wasn't the only one who could dig deep and find the flame of savagery within them. To control that savagery took a certain type of self-control. Othmar had been forced to master that self-control from the end of the war to his current position. He had to continue to do so if he or his compatriots expected to survive and take their revenge on their enemies.

Pittacus snorted, her magical energy dissipating. "I have a clear enough head, it's the rest of you that need reminders."

"Woman! One more word and I shall-"

"Wenzel!"

Eyes wide, the dark sorcerer swung his arm out sending forth a wave of darken spikes that shot through the air. They collided with the steel-tipped arrows. Black and purple molded with colors of orange and green, the magical spikes suddenly bulging then exploding in deafening burst of light and sound that illuminated the warehouse room.

"It's a-" Began Othmar peering upward finding the source of the disturbance. He cursed, he cursed himself and his compatriots for being so caught up in their own squabbling they never noticed them, and he cursed the Church of Seiros. But most of all…he cursed House Charon of the Kingdom of Faerghus for spawning what was undoubtedly one of the greatest threats to the Empire and its dreams of resurgence.

The blonde's hands were clapped together, a triangle formed between her index fingers and thumbs. At the center burned an orb of shimmering light. Othmar saw the thin smile on her face borne from their eyes meeting; no doubt the blonde had watching them since the meeting began meaning she and her partner had heard everything.

Smearing hot range surged through the Imperial officer seconds before it ground to a screeching halt due to being blinded by the searing light that exploded from the knight's hands.

Roaring white light washed over the interior of the warehouse; all of the occupants were caught completely off-guard. It was a perfectly timed surprise attack, and it would have been successful had it not been for the lone Agarthan who'd chosen attend the meeting.

"Die! Die all of you, vermin!" Screeched the pale-skinned magician, her magical power surging through her body and into her hands, which were stretched out in front of her. Exploding outward was an aura of deep purple marred with black like a raging flame. Quickly, the dark energy shaped itself into a screaming face, a horrific vintage that would have frightened anyone who saw it coming straight at them.

One person didn't so much see it coming as felt it, and she wasn't at all frightened. Her hand shot to the hilt of her sword, the bone-like weapon glowing with a mixture of red and black-tinted lightning. The razor-sharp point was leveled directly at the oncoming blast; arcs of crimson lightning exploded outward in all directions as the two powers collided. Rather than one overwhelming the other, the lightning blade stood strong, as did its wielder. Through the maelstrom of darkness and lightning, a pair of bright blue eyes stared straight ahead, determination burning within them as they bore holes into the pale-haired woman on the other end.

Pittacus felt her temper flare up more than it already had before. Her fingers curled as she funneled more power into her spell, hoping to overwhelm her opponent.

For a fraction of a second, the knight was pushed back, but her heels dug in and her body tensed. Shimmering into existence behind her came the Crest of Charon, the corresponding Crest stone upon the sword becoming alight with crimson luminous. The sword was pulled back, then thrusted forward with a mighty war cry from its owner.

In a literal flash, the burst of thunder and lightning overpowered the dark energy, red-colored arcs lashed out, tearing through the walls and support beams causing a mad scramble amongst those who could still move. They knew without a doubt what was coming next, and they needed to be out of the way when it hit.

Said hit came mere seconds after the power surge. Shockwaves of pressurized air and lightning ripped through the interior of the building blasting apart any remaining windows and leaving dents in the wall that grew larger by the second. The power of lightning overcame the power of darkness, throwing the Agarthan mage backward through the wall and sending her skidding across the ground like a pebble. Meanwhile, the warehouse finally gave out with its insides having been put through the ringer. Feet pounding, the knight rushed out of the collapsing structure in pursuit of her downed foe.

She stood tall and proud in the light of the half-moon that hung overhead, few clouds in sight providing uninterrupted moonlight. It bounced off of her polished silver armor that covered her chest, shoulders, and legs. Crimson sparks rolled off of the pronged longsword that she so effortless twirled about then slung over her shoulders as she leered at the downed Gremory. "Want some advance? Stay down, that way I won't have to hurt you won't get hurt anymore. Of course…you're more than welcome to get back up so I can kick your ass again." That last bit came out with a very noticeable chuckle that made Pittacus' see red.

Dark magic pooled around her hands while her fingers dug into the cold ground beneath her. "Stay down…insolent beast! You have no idea who or what you're dealing with! Such arrogance will cost you dearly!" Her hands rose, then slammed down sending a wave of dark energy coursing through the ground toward where the knight was standing. Or rather, where she _used _to be standing.

A collection of purple and black-tinted spikes erupted from the space in front of the collapsed warehouse; it didn't matter as the Knight of Seiros was already sprinting toward her target, having predicted the attack was on her way to neutralizing its source. Her Heroes Relic howled with energy as it swiftly moved through the air sending out several crescent-shaped waves of lightning.

Realizing her initial attack had failed, Pittacus brought her hands up in a desperate last-minute defense. Three impacts and the barrier shattered leaving her defenseless in front of the blonde-haired knight. A gloved fist rose in a text-book upper cut, socking her right in the chin sending her soaring off the ground. The punch was followed up by a spinning side-kick that sent the wounded woman skidding across the ground once more. Blood poured through her gums as she attempted to rise to her feet, pain having overwhelmed her entire body.

"Hm, all that talk about your supposed superiority, and you got down in two short blows…just like a lot of other typical mages." Mused the female knight with yet another chuckle. "Told you to surrender peacefully, you could have avoided a bruised chin and maybe a fractured rib or two."

"S-Shut up! You're nothing but a filthy animal! Worst than the rest as you're nothing but the attack dog for that vile Archbishop! _Both _of them!"

The cockiness faded as the armored woman took several steps forward until she came to a stop before the downed Gremory. She was shaking in fear as she looked up into the cold blue eyes before her. Mere moments ago, those eyes had been alight with a warrior's fire, but now, now they were as cold and merciless as ice. Befitting of an executioner's almost. "As it so happens, one of those Archbishops has questions for you, and he's going to get some answers out of you."

Fingers dug into the dirt as Pittacus continued to glare daggers at her adversary. "I'll die before talking to beasts like you all!"

"You sure did a lot of talking at that meeting. Speaking of which, not that I'm complaining, but you really should treat your allies a bit better, especially since they're all you have." Coolly shot back the blonde.

"Silence! You know nothing! I am an Agartha, I am-"

"The last remnants of a civilization whose time has already passed, a civilization still clinging to an old dream of revenge you're never going to fulfill." Finished the knight with cold animosity in her voice. Normally, this was the point she would have felt some shred of pity for her opponents, even those of the Empire, but this woman before her wasn't one worthy of pity. Nor were the rest of her kind in Catherine's eyes.

A mouthful of blood was spat out as formerly wide-eyes narrowed into silts. "You…so, I take it that vile spawn of the goddess told you all? She told you all of how that accursed Fell Star ruined us!? Ruined Fódlan?!"

An angry knot formed on the woman's face, an instinct response to hearing her loved ones spoken about in a manner. Her first impulse was to draw her sword and use it to splint the Gremory's head clean in half, but she repressed the urge. All she did was reach back and draw out a pair of dark metallic handcuffs. "We were told enough, you ruined yourselves, trying to do something as ludicrously stupid as kill the goddess of Fódlan out of little more than spite and arrogance, and even now, thousands of years later you're still at it. I'd honestly have pity for you, if you Agarthans weren't such a depictable lot."

"It was us who ruled this land and brought it to its height, just as it is us who will take it back! The true humans who shall bring about the golden age! What would you, a vile Servant of that false goddess and her hell spawn know?! No, in fact I'd almost say you're worse!" Sneered the downed woman as the blonde moved to bind her arms and legs. Instantly, she felt her magical power come to a screeching halt, not that it was working at one-hundred-percent efficiency after the short beatdown she'd received. "Worse than serving one of the hell spawn…you serve the Fell Star itself, operating as his shield and sword…and from what I hear…his bedwarmer as well. How disgusting."

Eyes cold and focused, the knight's hand shot out, grabbing Pittacus by the throat and bring her face-to-face with the angered blonde. "It's because of that 'Fell Star' that you're still breathing. Were it up to the rest of us, and by that I mean _everyone _in Fódlan, I'd have cut your ugly head off and been on my way back home." Her gaze suddenly hardened as she dropped the sorceress and faced ahead at the space ahead of her. Highly trained ears picked up the familiar huffing of a horse readying for a charge. Armor clanged as the armored figure burst from the darkness toward her. Far from being unprepared, the knight was ready.

First came an arc-shaped blast of lightning similar to the other slashes she'd fired off. Golden arcs of lightning lit up the axe in the charging knight's hand as he swung it upward, absorbing the attack. Not a second was wasted in responding to the new development. The knight's left arm went to her second sword, a finely crafted silver broadsword whose base lit up as mystical runes suddenly blazed to life, a moment later and the sword itself glowed with a fiery-orange light. Rather than being swung, it was instead stabbed into the ground, one hand still on the hilt while its owners face bent in concentration. From the implanted tip shot fourth a fiery line aimed directly at the approaching knight. A burst of roaring hot flames came soon after knocking the horse and its rider off balance. The latter was caught completely off-guard as he was no doubt least suspecting a magic attack from her of all people.

He responded to her coming charge with speed and ferocity, bringing up his Bolting Axe in an overhead swing in preparation for her attack. Said attack was a combination, the knight's two swords, silver and bone, fire and lightning, being swung parallel to each other.

Lighting up the night was an explosive burst of fire and lightning that ended with a gold-lined axe soaring skyward, an armored body stumbling backwards.

_**SLISH! **_

"N…no….no! Impossible! That's impossible!" Screeched the restrained Gremory, blood pouring from her lips and nose. Orange eyes stared straight ahead, unwilling to believe what they'd just witnessed. Illuminated by the blaze of fire and cackling lightning, the female knight turned back to face her. "You…you will pay for that, you bitch!"

"I'd say get up off the ground and give me your best shot, but you already did and look where we are." Proudly laughed the blonde sheathing her two swords back on her hip. The silver sword went into an ordinary sheath, mystical black wrappings materialized around the Heroes Relic as it was returned to its position at the warrior woman's side. She stood in the moonlight, proud and noble as a knight should have been. Pittacus did nothing but glare daggers at her, as if she were trying to strike her down with all of her hatred.

Then her eyes went wide. "Gah!" Her face hit the ground, her body unmoving save the occasional breathing which showed that she was still alive, only far removed from the realm of the waking.

Standing up, the blue-haired Dagda native fixed her partner with something of a smug stare. "I'm impressed."

Catherine raised an eyebrow at her best friend's statement. She could see she was being baited, but she was willing to humor her. "And what, pray tell, are you impressed by? It's not like I've never dealt with armored enemies or enemies carrying thunder-oriented weaponry forcing me to improvise."

To hear a laugh come out of the mouths of the best archer in the Knights of Seiros was an incredibly rare thing. Granted, it had become a bit more…commonplace since the end of the war with the Empire; it was yet another unexpected but highly appreciated change that had swept across the land. Catherine sure wasn't complaining about it, even if her bow-user friend's amusement came at her expanse. Most of the time.

This seemed to be one such time. "Not that, I'll be honest and say it's your restraint that really surprised me. Here I was worried I'd have to step in as soon as they started talking smack about Rhea and Byleth causing you to blow your top off. Instead…" Her purple eyes swept across the surroundings, which none the worse for wear save for two burning craters connected by a "blaze line" that stretched across a good ten feet or so. Finally, there was the remains of what had once but a storage warehouse that lay in ruins off to the side, albeit its destruction couldn't be entirely leveled at the blonde knight. "This was pretty tame, compared to what you could have done."

Again, she could see she was being baited, yet she jumped anyway. "Which was?"

"Burn the entire block down in a hailstorm of lightning and kill everyone thereby invalidating what our original mission was, which was capturing some of these people." Shamir answered in a nonchalant tone that was her trademark.

Catherine regarded her best friend with an annoyed stare. She felt a heated response on the tip of her tongue, but she held it back in favor of continuing to do her job, which was subduing the targets for interrogation. Pulling out a second pair of handcuffs, she locked them around the wrists of the groaning Great Knight she'd unseated then wounded with her dual swords. He groaned, cuffing up blood as he regained his vision and stared up at her. All Catherine did was sneer at him, even when insults began to fly from his mouth. She silenced him with a punch to the side of the head, that was how she relieved herself.

In the distant came the sound of hooves and boots clattering against the ground. The two female knights looked up just in time to see the rest of their platoon piling in. Torches went up revealing Imperial resistance fighters being pulled from the wreckage, and restrained upon so. One knight strutted over to them, dismounting off his horse and marching over to survey the damage down to the outside. He whistled.

"Duncan, don't you start." Catherine snarled.

The male brunette raised an eyebrow in amusement. "Start what? Honestly, Catherine, I have no idea what is it you're talking about."

Shamir's lips twitched upward into a smirk.

"Okay, now that business is done, I'm heading back to base! Call me if something major happens like a Demonic Beast is on the loose or something!"

Nine times out of ten, Catherine enjoyed being a knight and all that came with it, yet there were also times when even she needed a break. Usually that time came when having to put up with her comrades, who themselves were quite a colorful bunch, not that she hated that fact. Quite the opposite, still, for an elite fighting force they tended to enjoy their gossip a tad too much. In the aftermath of the war there'd been a lot to talk about. One such topic being her. Regrettably, she'd be the center topic over the next several weeks, months even.

_I vowed never to return to Faerghus partially so I'd never have to go back to court life, yet look at me now. Seems like I just traded one for another. _

At the very least this life was one where she could be excused for drinking her fill, and whacking away at practice dummies as a form of stress relief. It wasn't all bad, especially since she knew at the end of it all there was something, or rather someone very special waiting for her.

She had no idea how literally that last part was when she returned to her assigned residence.

* * *

"Um…hi, er, welcome…back?"

Saying welcome home wouldn't have exactly worked as this wasn't their home. It was an assigned apartment space allotted to the Knights of Seiros during their stay in the city of Raetia, north of the Adrestian capital of Enbarr and south of Garreg Mach Monastery. The distance between the city and the latter was relatively short, save for the mountains and it could be reached in two days or on foot and horseback meaning it was no surprise that the Ashen Demon had made the trip. And in such secrecy to boot.

Catherine was far from displeased to see her fiancé. "You know, if you'd shown up sooner we could have gone out for drinks or something." The statement came out with more than a noticeable ring of nervousness as she began to unfasten the straps of her armor and holsters for her weapons. This was without a doubt a scene that could ignite a scandal, the future Archbishop of Fódlan appearing in the room of one of his knights, whom he was also secretly in love with and had plans to marry. Never mind how he got in in the first place, Catherine knew that the minty-haired swordsman could move like the wind when he wanted to.

Byleth's lips curved upward into a smile as he walked over to help her. Catherine ceased her motives, letting Byleth finish up what she started. In a heartbeat, she threw her arms around him, burying herself in his embrace. She took in a whiff of his scent, just as he did to her.

"You're happy to see me." Laughed the Enlightened One.

"Brilliant deduction." She whispered back.

"How'd the mission go? Are you alright? Are you hurt in any way?" Came his soft questioning.

Catherine nuzzled the nap of his neck. "Still thinking about me over the mission, you never change, do you? Not that I want you to." There was a brief chuckle accented by him tenderly rubbing her back. The moment she'd seen him, Catherine felt all he defenses and fighting instincts shut off, like a candle that had been blown out. "I'm fine, though I can't say the same for the Agarthans we came across. For the record, I was…well, I'd like to think I held myself back."

"Heh, you say that like you're worried I'm going to Shamir or any of the other knights and get a different story." Catherine pulled back and attempted to look away from him, a cute blush building on her face. All Byleth did was laugh, causing the blush to deepen. He was one of the only two people who could do this-disarm the mighty Thunder Catherine and reduce her to a smitten school girl. "I'm glad that you're alright." He finally said, giving her reason to look to him.

"No way I would ever allow myself to get injured on an easy mission like this." Chirped the knight with a wink and a smile.

"Really?" Pressed her divine lover. Gone was her silver armor leaving her clad in only her cream-colored tunic. "Even if it meant being treated by me?"

Crimson exploded across her cheeks. A combination of his words and the position of his hands were enough to make her normally firm and agile legs turn wobbly. Yet another indicator that her warrior heart had been won by another, and arguably the last person whom such a thing could ever be expected. Faintly, the knight heard the soft patter of rain outside. It seemed that she'd either lost control of her Crest or the goddess was playing a game with her. Neither option seemed too outlandish, not that whichever one it was stopped her. Briefly, she gave her young love a glare that crumbled as she leaned forward pressing their lips together. She was the aggressive one as she'd been longing to get her hands on him. Byleth readily returned her embrace, tightening his arms around her waist and hoisting her up. This wasn't something that Catherine was used to-being swept up in the arms of another, particularly in the bedroom. She was all too happy that the one doing it was Byleth.

Neither of them could have ever predicted this was where their paths would lead. In all honesty, a part of the Ashen Demon and thunder-wielding knight believed their roads would intersect with their swords at each other's throats. As time passed, that possibility became less and less likely, finally cementing into outright impossible at the first Battle of Garreg Mach. They stood side by side as comrades defending the monastery and its residents against the oncoming army of Adrestia. Five long years of separation hadn't dented that bond, if anything, it might have strengthened it.

Beyond the walls around them, rain had descended upon the city of Raetia forcing its residents indoors. Arguably the future Archbishop of Fódlan was to blame for that, he had after all set off a woman whose Crest governed the stormy skies. He'd never disliked the rain, but he never really felt a strong attachment to it either. That had changed as he fought beside and befriend the legendary Thunder Catherine. She told him that the Crest of Charon always invited rain where ever its bearers went. Byleth wasn't too surprised by that, especially given some of the…details regarding where Crests had truly come from. The rain made for relaxing music to him, especially as he lay back in bed with the woman he loved in his arms.

"I actually came to help personally in building the hospital. I figured it'd be a good first start to mending the damage done by the war." He started staring up at the darkened ceiling.

"That's what I figured, to be honest with you, it's why I decided to personally supervise this mission. I wanted to clear things out before you got here." As had been verified at the meeting between strangling Imperials, her fiancé's head was a much-desired item, especially in what was currently occupied Imperial territory. They'd been dead-on in identifying him as the reason the war had undergone such a massive reversal ending with the Kingdom of Faerghus' victory and Adrestia's defeat. Catherine herself had heard much of the whispers praising and cursing Byleth. He couldn't step foot into the land of Adrestia without having to worry about a knife or arrow to the throat. Which was exactly why she'd taken her job more seriously than she ever had, or rather, her new job. "Promise me you won't go off on any reckless ventures without telling me."

"If I did, I can imagine how things would go." He mused with an easy-go smile that made the blonde knight giggle.

"Me riding to your rescue," She interpreted.

"Then chewing me out of not telling you what I was doing or where I was going. Just like a wife should." Byleth added with a wistfully smile.

"Yep, a nice kiss to the ass before I drag you back home and make you promise to never do that sort of thing again. Exactly how a wife should be." Her laugh was as vibrant as the sun which had retreated from the world. "I suppose I'll help out tomorrow, it'll be a nice change of pace to be honest. Hehe, look at me, I've gone a knight to now helping out with building projects."

"You say that like you've done repair work." Slyly retorted the minty-haired warrior. "I definitely remember a certain someone helping out when we all regrouped back at the monastery, even working way into the night along with Cyril to help restore the monastery to even a shadow of what it once was."

"Huh-uh." Responded the knight turning over to face him with amusement cackling in her eyes. "I seem to remember a certain someone watching me during that reconstruction work, especially when I was showing some skin."

The Ashen Demon answered her accusing smirk with one of his own. "Funny coming from the woman who stalked me throughout the monastery and occasionally threw practice weapons and eventually even dinner plates at me."

"And you dodged them all with so little fanfare. Just proves that I chose right."

His arm wrapped around her waist bringing her in close. Catherine looped both of her arms around his neck, her face burying into the crux of his neck where she quietly dozed off seconds later. Byleth remained awake for a few moments longer, his mind heavy with thoughts of the past days' events and what would be in store of them in the future. He tried not to be fearful of the future, but there were times when he couldn't help but feel a ripple of unease. Arm still wrapped around his love's waist, her body cuddling up against his, he turned his gaze to the window to his far right. Watching the hundreds of rain drops collide against the window brought him a sense of ease, as well as reminded him of how exactly he came to this current predicament.

_We end one war…but find ourselves on the threshold of another, one that began thousands of years before any of us were even born. _Moving his free hand across the sheets, he placed his warm palm over his center chest. He didn't have a heartbeat in the conventional sense, Crest Stones didn't quite work the same way that human hearts did. Or at least the Crest Stone of Sothis didn't, it was on another level compared to the others of its kind. There was still so much that he wanted to know, needed to know. That was one reason why he didn't quite dread the future, yet he made sure to take the time to enjoy the present for all it was worth. The good, the bad, and…everything in between.

* * *

_**Two Weeks ago, Garreg Mach Monastery **_

"_Ag..artha?" Questioned the still freshly-crowned King of Faerghus looking to the Archbishop and her assistant with puzzled eyes. He wasn't the only one who held an expression of confusion as he struggled to process the information, Ferdinand and Lorenz, representatives of their respective domains were equally as puzzled as him. So too was Catherine, who stared at her self-appointed charge with wide eyes. _

_The only outlier was of course, the Ashen Demon himself. He quietly looked over the documents that had been handed out with calculating eyes and a shut mouth. Several eyes glanced his way, having taken note of his silence. Least of all were Catherine, who sat right beside her secret fiancé and of course, the Archbishop herself. The look she was giving him could only be described as partial shame mixed with a dab of curiosity. Out of all those who'd come to know him, the light-green-haired woman was a tad better at reading him beyond his stoic façade. In many ways, he was quite like his father, albeit at times less expressive. That had changed somewhat over time as he interacted with people, as he learned to truly cherish them. _

_Based on what he read, those people were still at risk. "So, now we have names and identities regarding who it was that helped Edelgard along, or rather, who pushed her into all of this." _

"_But still…Lady Rhea, with all due respect…this story is…it's…" Ferdinand spoke, his eyes wide as he looked between the Archbishop and Seteth. The latter in particular held his attention as the revelation of the man's true identity had hit him a tad harder than he'd expected. It wasn't often one was able to meet their ancestor, or more accurately, the Saint who had donated blood to his ancestor allowing for him to fight the Fell King and his allies. "I'll be blunt, if you shall forgive me, I bemoan the fact that these…people chose to take root within the Empire." He spoke with an air of gloom as his head fell. _

_Lorenz looked to his orange counterpart with sympathy in his eyes. While the war had been hard on them all, for the aspiring noble, it had hit with all the force of a comet. His lifelong rival declaring war on the Church of Seiros and practically the rest of Fódlan which escalated into a five and half year long torturous run resulting in thousands of deaths, including that of his own father. Now, what lay before them was one prime piece of the puzzle that they all had been missing, perhaps the most important piece. _

_Dimitri spared his war-time comrade and political ally a look of sympathy as well before choosing to speak up. "If I may, I believe the purpose might be to hide in plain sight. Rarely does one look for danger in their own backyard, that seems to be how these Agarthans operated." _

"_Just don't tell me that they planned all of this a thousand years in advanced. That's way too much to swallow." Groaned Catherine. She'd kept up with it all well enough: an ancient civilization that challenged the goddess and was predictably crushed. The problem was they weren't crushed completely thus they persisted. "Did they seriously just wait a thousand years to act?" _

"_No, if anything, it took a thousand years for things to reach a point where they could act, or get someone to act on their behalf." Finally spoke the Ashen Demon catching everyone's attention. All eyes went to Byleth Eisner as he finally rose his head, his dark eyes focused and his face serious. This was an extremely common occurrence, his voice resounding like a bell catching the attention of all in the room. "The skirmish in Hrym leading to House Ordelia's fall from grace, the presumable first start of this…Crest experimentation." His eyes swiftly went to Lorenz, who regrettably nodded his head. Next, Byleth moved his attention to Ferdinand. He didn't like where things were going, but the noble remained resolute as he gave his confirmation. "That leads to the Insurrection of the Seven which forces Edelgard and her mother to flee to Faerghus." _

"_After which…the Tragedy of Duscur is plotted and…carried out." Near growled Dimitri. "Yes, I see…afterwards Edelgard and her uncle return to Adrestia-"_

"_Albeit by then, it's entirely possible that Arundel had already been replaced. I double-checked the records. His donations to the Church came to a sudden stop around that time." Byleth cut in. _

"_I agree, for all we know, after fleeing Adrestia, Lord Arundel could have already been swopped out with…this…Thales character." Affirmed Seteth. Much like everyone else, he was less than pleased at having to revisit such sore topics, perhaps more so as this was the same nightmare that had plagued his people thousands of years ago, and it hadn't died out like he and his sister had hoped. "All of this leads to a perfect storm-"_

"_Aided by my…inaction." There was no hardness in Rhea's voice, only a somber tone that drew the focus of all others. Looks of sympathy were directed her way, especially by the two blondes and the boy she'd placed all of her hopes in. Briefly, she ducked her head as she knew she didn't deserve their pity, she didn't deserve any of it. "While I was held captive in the Empire, I managed to glean some pieces of information, namely that Thales, the leader of the surviving Agarthans, had likely taken Arundel's place. That no doubt would have given him direct contact with royal family. The same family that I…shared my blood with." Her stomach rumbled in disgust at the realization of what had been carried out to the descendants of one of the few people she'd ever call a friend. All right under her nose._

"_But still, how much of this did my father know of? Surely someone must have known something as we're staring at the documentation here!" Thundered Ferdinand feeling a wave of righteous fury wash over him. Though he still grieved for his father, he couldn't help but curse him at the same time, him and the other nobles who'd taken part in the Insurrection. What had seemed like a mere political coup they now knew had given way to something more darker. _

_Byleth raised his hand, quietly calming down his former student. "How much of that, we're still looking into. Just what we have now only came about from cross-examining and combing through hundreds of records and sources. We're still trying to figure who in Faerghus played a hand in the Tragedy of Duscur. It's likely it'll be another year before we have a complete picture of what really happened." _

"_And in the meantime, these Agarthans are still out there somewhere, plotting." Catherine growled._

"_Perhaps not." Cut in Dimitri. "When we stormed the Imperial Palace, after we slew an enemy mage, a good number of other mages fled, all of them bearing clothing similar to his. I believe his name was Myson, right, Professor?" _

_An affirmative nod came. The mysterious mages guarding the Palace had been the toughest hurdle for them to overcome. It'd taken him three Divine Pulses in order for him to come up with a firm battle plan that wouldn't result in all of them getting killed before reaching the throne room. "It was. After his death the others pulled back, I remember some claiming that they couldn't afford to sacrifice anymore of their forces and that they still had a goal to accomplish." _

"_But what is that goal? The elimination of all the people of Fódlan? Sounds more like a madman's fantasy more than anything." Stated Lorenz. _

"_That's arguably not too far off." Offered the one-eyed ruler of Faerghus, and at the moment, all of Fódlan. "What we're discussing is an ancient people who grew so arrogant they attempted to challenge the goddess herself and were driven deep underground. Such rage, such hatred…it does not die easily. It can no doubt fester for years, eons apparently. If anything, seeing that Edelgard was making her last stand, these Agarthans decided that they could expand no more forces on a doomed venture and pulled back." _

"_But to where though? As long as sure a group exists Fódlan can't know true peace." Argued Ferdinand. "From what we can gather we slew their leadership, Dimitri, you yourself slew this Thales man while Professor Byleth cut down this mage named Myson." _

"_And five years before that we killed Solon." Added the Ashen Demon crossing his arms. "I'm tempted to say we killed most of their upper leadership, albeit unknowingly." A rare smile graced the swordsman's face. Even he couldn't be a tad amused at the cosmic irony of it all. In the pursuit of one goal they'd accomplished another, yet that didn't mean they could rest entirely easy. "Using what we have here, we'll put together something of an investigative force. Something tells me that the Agarthans won't make a move until they've regained more of a foothold. As it stands, every major power in Fódlan has been depleted in terms of fighting strength meaning covert actions are what will be the deciding factor." _

"_Unfortunately for us, these Agarthans have become quite proficient at such actions." Noted Seteth. "Thinking of the worst-case scenario is that every person in this room is targeted. No, an attempt is made on every person here." Tension tightened around the room with the words of the Wyvern Lord and newly revealed Saint. Assembled in this chamber was the Archbishop of Fódlan, her chosen successor, the king of Faerghus and currently a united Fódlan, the future prime minister of Adrestia, the highest-ranking representative of the Leicester Alliance, and a few of the highest-ranking knights. If any of them were to fall to assassin's blade, or worst, all of them, the continent would be plunged headlong into hell._

_The swordsman's hands shifted through the piles of official and classified documents, all of which had been confiscated in the aftermath of the final battle at the Imperial Palace. "Look, nothing good will come of sitting here and freighting over plots that may or may not come to pass. A war just ended so we all know that they're targets on our heads, some more so than others." Everyone knew exactly who the Ashen Demon was indicating towards. Said person remained as poised and focused as one would have expected a king to be. "At best, we can only proceed with caution from here on out. We know for a fact that while these Agarthans may be able to duplicate physical appearances, they can't replicate behavior as every case of…kill-and-replace-"_

"_A surprisingly catchy name." Mused Dimitri, who was taking the news rather well. His example was perhaps one to be followed. _

"_So anyone who suddenly starts behaving strangely is to be watched, and if they're caught sneaking around…well, I'd say restrain but don't kill." That of course drew some attention, especially from the two members of the table sporting pointy ears. Quickly, the former mercenary raised his hand. "Now look, I know everyone has their own personal thoughts and feelings, but we have to be a bit practically about this. Namely the classic case of sword to the chest isn't going to solve these problems, at least not in the long term. We only partially discovered this information from performing autopsies on Arundel and Cornelia which revealed some…revealing details that we otherwise would have missed." _

_Seteth's lips momentarily curved upward in a smile of approval. "Respectfully, Byleth, without you, those autopsies never would have occurred at all."_

"_Without you, none of us would be standing here." Added Ferdinand. "Professor Byleth, perhaps you could supervise the investigation?" _

"_Unfortunately, that won't be possible. Byleth's already got a lot on his plate to deal with." Commented Catherine. "First off all, Lady Rhea still has some to put him through some training so he can inherit the position of Archbishop next, second, putting him at the forefront of this will make him more of a target." _

"_Catherine, our dear Professor is already a target, for he is the one whom the Agarthans hate more than anyone." Spoke the exhausted but still very commanding voice of the Archbishop. Little over a month had passed since the Archbishop's liberation from the Imperial Dungeons where she'd been starved, poked, prided, and mentally tortured to the point she looked more ghost than mortal when the Faerghus-Alliance-Church army had arrived stormed in to save her. Time had done some good in allowing her to recover, at the very least she was able to attend meetings such as this; granted, this was one such meeting that Rhea knew she had to attend. In fact, she'd helped put it together. "Our Professor bears the Crest of Flames, bestowed upon him by the goddess Sothis herself." _

"_The same goddess these Agarthans attempted to strike down." Mused Lorenz giving said professor an aside glance. The picture had come together, but it was still an overall grisly sight. It was unclothe to admit so in front of his friends and comrades, but secretly Lorenz was glad that amongst all the shadowy manipulations unacted by these ancient revenants none had touched the Leicester Alliance. Or at least none they knew of. "Not to mention his arrival single-handedly turned the entire war around thus ruining their years' long plan." _

"_And all of that wouldn't have happened if I weren't in Remire Village…just as Edelgard attempted to have you all killed. Talk about stupid luck." Wistfully mused the Ashen Demon. _

"_Luck…or perhaps the will of the goddess." Offered Rhea with a tentative smile that was shared by those around the table. It was most certainly shared by Catherine, who stole an aside glance at the swordsman's way. Said swordsman nervously smiled as he returned Rhea's glance. A little in-joke between the two of them. "Moreover, Byleth is right. Worrying over what might be is irrelevant, nor will it do us any good."_

"_I agree, all we can do is focus on the presence, which is what's happening now." Dimitri seconded. "At best we can do as previously laid out, observe those around us for anything out of the ordinary. From what we know, these…people-"_

"_I've heard some call them mole-people." Byleth chirped in. _

"_Hey, the name kind of fits." Seconded Catherine. _

"_Won't be as reckless as to make a move now that they've been weakened, at least not a frontal move. If anything, they'll merely piggy-back onto the backs of others." Continued the one-eyed king. _

"_The Imperial remnants." Ferdinand theorized. "I've actually had some of my own knights planted into the resistance movement to feed us information. Things are…quite desperate, I believe so desperate that they will seek out these Agarthans for aid, especially if they believe they can use them to get at us." _

"_There's a high chance that the monstrosity that Edelgard turned herself into was thanks to their aid." Noted the blond king, his lone left eye shutting in sober remembrance of the heinous form his stepsister had taken. "Ferdinand, can you keep us updated on what your spies pick up?" _

"_Of course, though I must say, this is…perhaps going to be a bit more than what they bargained for. All of this is more than what I bargained for." Explained the orange-haired noble. _

"_That's an understatement." Mused the female blonde at the table. As far as she was concerned, these Agarthans, these remnants, they were just another enemy, albeit one more akin to a poisonous serpent than lumbering beast like the Adrestian Army had been. "Speaking of, the Knights of Seiros have an investigation scheduled over the next week or so. I suppose we'll have to be on the lookout for anything unusual." _

"_I pray this investigation will go smoothly, but at this point, I've learned to be…ready for anything as they say." _

_Anything, yes, that was the word. Of all the assembled souls in the room, none of them ever thought this was where they would be, yet here they would. Life was strange and even merciful like that as some never thought they'd be alive to talk of leadership and future planning. The future was something they all looked forward then, even as they lived and worked to maintain the present. _

_The meeting let out less than half an hour later. Discussion was heavy as much had been brought forth, namely secrets that could shake all of Fódlan to its foundations. Certainly the revelation that ancient civilizations existed in the distant past and persisted would have been enough to rile up the mind._

_Still, not all topics of discussion were quite so serious, some of them were different, involving topics completely unrelated to heavy revelations. _

"_So, is this the part where you tell me to be careful?" Catherine began giving her lover a sideways glance. _

"_Pretty sure I should be telling you that because as one of the Knights of Seiros and arguably the most famous, I'd say you're a prime target." He kindly retorted. It was the same tower they'd met at close to a year ago, when they'd all reconvened at Garreg Mach Monastery. Oh, how things had changed. _

_Catherine pressed her lips. "They may be able to copy my appearance, but they can't copy my Crest thus my ability to wield Thunderbrand. Two things that…well…I don't want to say they entirely make up my identity, but they're a pretty big part of it. If either was missing then everyone would know that something's up. You would." _

"_True, I pay attention to you pretty closely." Chirped the male swordsman. _

_The female knight laughed while leaning against his shoulder, his arm automatically wrapping around her shoulders. Catherine didn't exactly consider herself good at flirty, or at least "normal" flirting, that was Manuela and even her escapades were…debatable. Fortune smiled upon her as she'd found a man who did all the flirting, even if he claimed he had no idea how to flirt. _

_She never thought she'd treasure another person so dearly as much as she did Rhea. Speaking of which, Catherine couldn't help but feel that there was something else untold of in the meeting. More than once did she catch the looks the two minty-haired individuals shot one another. On one hand, she felt like she knew a tad more about why her lady had been so interested in her fiancé, yet Catherine knew there was more than wasn't being told. Oddly, she was at peace with that, maybe because as far as she was concerned, she knew all that she needed to know. _

"_Having heard all of that, I want you to know that I'm going to be watching you." Started the blond. _

"_You already do that." Laughed the light-using magic swordsman. _

"_You know what I'm saying. You've got angry mole-people after you so I'll have to be twice as vigilant." Clarified the female knight. "Before you say anything, I'm taking all of this as best I can, as far as I'm concerned, it really doesn't change much. Not my views on Lady Rhea, Seteth, Flayn, and definitely not my views on you." There can a brief laugh at part. "Okay, if I'm honest, it kind of does. Now I know I spent all that time at the monastery trying to compete with a guy literally blessed by the goddess. Now I just feel stupid." _

_A hearty laugh escaped the normally stoic young adult's lips, a welcome sound that Catherine and the rest of the Monastery's inhabitants had come to treasure. "If it's all the same, I'd prefer it if you still looked at me like I was a normal guy." _

"_Well, no offense, but you're not a normal guy. You're a special one…a…very special one. One that I vow to keep alive at all costs." _

_Moments like this belonged to the two of them. Out of sight from the rest of their comrades and friends, it was just them. Both of their respective identities were reduced to one-word, one-name, descriptions: Byleth and Catherine. That's how they'd gotten to know one another, and it's how they wanted things to continue for as long as they could. _

"_So…have you…told anyone about…you know?" He nervously asked flicking his gaze down to her left hand, barefoot of her combat gloves and gauntlets. Glittering in the light of the evening sun shined the ring he'd given the knight, his mother's ring. _

"_I was going to tell some place like Shamir, but after that talk I…" She answered looking away from him. _

"…_Maybe in a week or so?" _

_Catherine grinned at the former teacher, then brought her arms around his neck in a fiery kiss he instantly returned. Yes, without a doubt, come what may she would do all in her power to keep this man alive. His arms looped around her waist as an indicator the promise went both ways. To many, she was just a knight, but to Byleth, Catherine was more, and would continue to be more even when he formally assumed his title of Archbishop. _

_Briefly, he wondered how the others would take the announcement when they finally broke the news. He looked forward to seeing the looks of shock on their faces, especially Ingrid and Sylvain._

* * *

**And there's the first chapter of this little mini-series. Now most of this is headcanon as while those who slither in the dark aren't ever directly addressed on the Azure Moon route, there's little reason to think that they wouldn't be as they'd likely make some sort of counter attack in the near future after regaining their strength. Or as discussed in this chapter, piggy-backing off of someone else's revenge plot. Rhea and Seteth revealing a little more about Fódlan's true history and who's been behind the scenes making all their lives hell felt like a natural extension of that. Now, they haven't quite revealed **_**everything**_**, that's going to come in latter chapters, namely those centered on Byleth, Catherine, and Rhea when the three sit down for a long awaited talk. **

**Until next chapter! **


	2. Chapter 2-Build Me Back Up

**I originally wanted to get this chapter out last year, but hey, what are you going to do. Plus, I feel it's kind of fitting as the theme of this little story is settling the past to move forward towards the future. Let that tale continue.**

**I do not own anything.**

* * *

_**Chapter 2-Build Me Back Up**_

The rain had come to a stop by morning. It helped bring out something…ethereal in the town as the morning sun rose, a partially eerie yet somewhat comforting fog descending over the town and the surrounding lands. Normally, that would have been cause for some to stay indoors, but for one reason or another, many were out and about already beginning the day's events.

Byleth remembered his father telling him how such attitudes was part of what made Raetia special. He claimed part of his fortitude had been inherited from growing up on its ancient and beaten streets. Unlike his father, he'd never gotten the chance to walk those streets himself, not until he was a grown up. Now it was impossible for him to walk those same streets his father had without drawing some sort of attention. He couldn't really blame his father for that as he knew that Jeralt had been wrestling with his own past demons. Oddly enough, the ones Byleth had to contend with were rooted in the present and the future. So alike yet so different, such was the nature of parents and children.

One thing that Byleth knew separated him and his father were their choice of women. He had heard that his mother had been a nun at the Monastery. Immediately, his mind thought to Mercedes and Marianne, both students of his and devoted women of the faith with kind and gentle personalities. In his downtime, Byleth could understand how his father, a gruff man apparently even in his youth, had been attracted to such gentleness. One could argue for him, the gender roles of the romance had been reversed; many could argue that _he _was the gentle one.

The life of a nun suited Catherine about as well as a vegetarian's diet suited a lion, just as she claimed the life of a princess did. The blonde-haired Crest-bearer was a fighter through and through, somewhat unclothe and quite blunt, but at heart incredibly kind and noble. In a way, she was n inversion of Byleth, or at least he thought so. She was social, even if she believed herself to be lacking in social graces; well, compared to him practically _everyone _had social graces. Not to mention she often likened herself to the thunder and lightning she wielded in the form of her Hero's Relic, something incapable of helping and healing unlike him.

Light green eyes stared out at the misty horizon that lay beyond the apartment space. Byleth felt like if he wanted to, he could blow away the morning mist, such was his greatly enhanced magical power. For that, he had Sothis to thank as her merging with his soul had greatly bolstered his magical power, albeit more in the way of healing and light manipulation. Still, there were times when he stared out at the surroundings, he wondered just how much of the goddess' power he could draw upon now that her soul and his had fused into one.

A light moan from behind him reminded him that ultimately, he didn't need such power. It wasn't power that gave people like him what they wanted, it merely offered them the means to protect that which they cherished. And what he cherished was awakening from her slumber. Smiling, he looked back to watch as the former Faerghus noblewoman rise, arms stretched, jaw open, and her hair loose and wild. Catherine, somewhat surprisingly, had messy bed hair even though her hair didn't reach past her shoulders. Usually, she kept it tied up in a short ponytail, something that Byleth had admittedly found cute.

"Morning," She said smiling at him, a light blush tugging at her cheeks. This was the side of Thunder Catherine that very few people were allotted to see. Well, Byleth was special even in that category as he was the man she'd given herself to. Catherine quietly joined him, her arms resting on the window still as she peered out at the landscape. The mist was clearing. "If you want, you can take the day off, I don't think anyone will complain too much."

"You know that I can't do that, or at least I don't want to." There was an air of sorrow in his voice, something that Catherine recognized. Without a word, she wrapped her arm around his waist and leaned on him. Byleth quickly returned her kindness by doing the same to her. Should anyone have walked by and been able to see through the mist they would have been treated to the sight of the Ashen Demon and Thunder Catherine arm-in-arm, staring out at the city like a couple. They were a couple, albeit one that very few people knew about. Once that news broke both were sure it'd be the talk of the land, for good and bad reasons. "He…at least left some notes written down for me, maybe to help himself just as much as me." Came the quiet whisper of the male swordsman.

Catherine's grip on him tighten if only by a slight margin. "Like I said, if you want to take some time off, do it. No one will hold it against you. Just like the rest of us you're still recovering. Hell, you've got a lot more to recover from." For a vast majority of Fódlan, it had been five years of war, for Byleth, it'd be five years of darkness. An empty sleep after which he'd woken up to a drastically changed world, a world that he felt like he'd failed. She knew that he still had so many questions and doubts regarding himself and everything around him; he'd been sent into that dark sleep before he could get any answers for any of those things. Even now, three-quarters of a year after his "re-awakening", he still had those moments of doubt and lingering regret. Before, when he was still amongst the living, Catherine had seen Jeralt alone in such moments, a look of deep thought on his face. Comparing the two, it further hammered home how alike father and son were.

Yet, Catherine also knew that alikeness was still coming as something of a shock to Byleth. In spite of having him around, always being around him, protecting him, Jeralt had told his only son very little about himself and his past. At the very least he'd revealed his birthplace, the very city they were now temporarily staying at.

Byleth had told her that Jeralt had told him the house he was born in likely wasn't around anymore, but the Ashen Demon felt a compulsion to at least go to where it might have once stood. If only just to see what occupied the birthplace of the Blade Breaker now. Catherine had a gut feeling that upon arrival in Raetia, Byleth had gone straight to work, and made sure she was alright, before doing anything personal.

"Let's just say for the sake of the argument, I did take the day off," he began drawing her out of the haze of her thoughts and musings. "I take it you'd be trailing me every step of the way?"

The knight giggled. "Like a shadow."

"Even if I decide to do something like say…take a dip in one of the lakes around town? Perhaps go for a swim?" He pressed keeping his eyes focused straight ahead. His neutral face belayed the near childish glee he felt as Catherine's cheeks turned bright pink. There was no need to turn around as he knew for a fact that his little "suggestion" had hit home. Already he could hear the first babbles of the usually well-put together knight.

It was times like this Catherine loved and hated. She loved it because, well, she'd taken quite an attraction to Byleth's physical appearance, not to mention these little jabs showed that he wasn't nearly as emotionless as others claimed he was. On the other hand…he was perhaps a bit too good at reading her, getting her all riled up. It also made her fear that someone, he'd caught wind of all her little spying. _Stalking. _Snickered a more nefarious voice in the back of her mind, it only made her blush deepen. "I-I-I mean y-y-you can d-d-d-do whatever you want! I-I'll just be standing guard! O-Over you!" By the goddess, she wanted to jump back into bed!

_With him, right? Or maybe drag him back into bed, take your place above him and finally-_

The female knight felt like another presence had taken up residence in her head, and it was giving voice to some of the long-held urges and desires she'd struggled to keep locked up and contained. Even after Byleth had proposed to her and she'd accepted. They weren't officially married yet, hell, no fewer than ten people knew they were engaged!

So lost in her thoughts she failed to notice that Byleth ahd spun her around so they were now eye-to-eye. For a second at least. Upon realizing the position they were in, Catherine quickly turned her head to the side, a flaming blush coloring her cheeks. "Catherine," Came the Ashen Demon's voice, as soft and soothing as the morning breezes sweeping across the land. "If I did choose to go for a swim in the lake…would you join me?" He repeated.

_Would I join you? Don't you mean would I finally get the chance to jump that handsome body that you've been hiding from the rest of the world?! _Roared a smitten voice she tried and failed to quell. It grew louder feeling his hand, his ungloved and ever so soft hand sliding up her cheek. Normally, this was the part where she either batted the hand away, broke the wrist, and then maybe threw the poor bastard out the window and listened to him scream in agony as he hit the ground. What happened instead was Catherine felt her legs all but begin to liquify. The fact that this sort of thing was happening to _her _only made the entire moment feel more surreal.

While she contemplated exactly what was happening to her, Byleth was quietly taking in her expression. He knew that Catherine wasn't nearly as much of a hardass as many liked to believe, well, at least not when Rhea wasn't mentioned. And him too, he was a recent addition to the few things that did press her buttons. Granted, those buttons didn't always result in anger, as he was seeing now. A woman approaching her forties, yet he'd easily brought her down to the level of a flustered school girl. Byleth liked to think it was a nice way to start off the day, and perhaps a good omen. He began to pull his hand away, only to get quite a surprise when hers clapped over his hand.

Oh, and his lips were occupied by hers.

Though he was caught off-guard by the kiss, Byleth quickly melted into it. He tasted hunger in his fiancé's lips. That wasn't at all surprising as he often found between the two of them…she was often the most wanting in physical affection. Particularly affection that involved the lips. As her right hand lightly squeezed his, her other arm looped around his waist. Gradually, she began to move them back towards the bed, away from the open window. The sounds of their muffled moans were lost to the morning wind. A slight pop could be heard when they separated for air; seconds later and Byleth felt his knees hit the edge of the bed. He went down, his knightly lover taking the opportunity to steal another kiss from him. Taking advantage of their new positions, she bore down on him, aggressively seizing his mouth and tongue. Byleth offered little in the way of resistance as a part of him enjoyed the dominant side of his blonde love.

Granted, it did stir something inside of him, something strange and new.

It arguably was that strange sensation that caused him to roll the two of them over when the chance presented itself. Catherine was caught off guard, but mesmerized as evident by the starstruck look in her blue eyes as she stared up at him. Byleth himself felt like he was in a trace as he stared down at his lady love. He could practically see the air entering and exiting her lungs; gradually, her legs rose and wrapped around his waist, practically locking him in place. Any moment he figured her arms would do the same to his neck. His fingers dug into the sheets as he leaned down, not a fiery kiss but a tender embrace. Catherine was fine with it, in spite of her mannerisms, she did find soft and tender appealing. Doubly so when it was given by a man whom she trusted with all of her heart and soul.

The concept of time seemingly disappeared in a sensual abyss in which the two sword-users were lost in. They wanted to remain there forever, even through the short gasps for breath they took in-between the kissing. Throughout that entire time, their positions never changed, he on top and her on the bottom. Secretly, they relished in how things were, intimately grinding their bodies together.

Until one pulled back.

_For just a minute…I thought I heard her voice. _Thought the former academy instructor, his face as crimson as a ripe cherry. Catherine was no better. If he had really heard Sothis' voice, he knew it was a near scathing demand for him to untangle himself from his lover and get to work. He came to Raetia for a certain purpose, one that called for him to be clear-minded and at his best. "W-We should…start getting ready for the day. I-In fact I should probably be on my way to oversee the construction…and to help out in it."

Catherine blinked, reason finally returning to her, and allowing her to fully grasp the stat they were in. "R-R-Right, y-yeah. A-A-And I'll be p-p-protecting you-I mean helping out. I-I mean, oh, you get the point! Lots of hammers and nails and all that, the last thing we need is one of them finding you!" He moved away, allowing her to rise. Quickly, Catherine turned away, partially so she can catch her breath and partially because looking at him would serve to further arouse her.

Even as she got dressed for the day, the thought lingered inside of her. It was biting at her like a starving dog. Indeed, she was starving, Catherine knew she was craving the sensual love that Byleth was all too willing to offer…and she was perfectly willing to recuperate.

_Not here. _She told herself daring to steal a glance at him. _Maybe once we get back to the Monastery and we have some alone time then I can…we can…_

The world had indeed changed. What seemed out of reach now suddenly seemed possible, no matter how absurd. Catherine believed that was a reason to be grateful, to hold one's head up high and smile. When she and Byleth opened the door to greet the world, that's exactly what she, what they did.

* * *

She remembered when Byleth had first explained the concept of what a hospital was to her. Actually, it had been a collection of knights, but Catherine specifically remembered how…impassioned he was when he spoke of it, a medical center, a clinic really, but far larger. Sure, there were healers and physicians, but many of them owned their own private practice and that was that. A hospital was different, it was open to the public and according to him, it was required by law that they treat _all_ patients who came through their doors. Even more, it was separate from the Church, something that admittedly made her raise an eyebrow. In Fódlan, such institutions were few and far between with the few typically lying on the outskirts.

It took her some time, but Catherine understood why-helping people didn't involve faith or religion, it was merely something that you did because it was the right thing to do as a human being. Such a deep and compassionate sentiment from a man with a reputation for being what amounted to as a cold-blooded killer. That was one of her first clues as to who Byleth Eisner really was.

He was a warrior…but he could also be a healer, a builder.

After hearing his idea, Ferdinand had immediately taken to the concept and greenlighted it, as did Dimitri. The two young nobles had half-hearted squabbled over which nation should get the honor of hosting Fódlan's first official hospital. Byleth and Dimitri had practically double-teamed Ferdinand and gotten him to agree to letting it be Adrestia. While everyone acknowledged it was an act of goodwill, it was also a play at good public relations.

The Empire was not in the best of moods, which was quite funny as of the continent's three nations, it was the _least _decimated. The territories of the Kingdom and Alliance were still hard at work in rebuilding, some minor and a few major establishments being given up on as the damage done to them was too severe; not to mention some simply wanted to get away from the memories associated with them. Catherine didn't blame those people as she knew all too well about running from one's past.

Her fiancé on the other hand, wasn't running. He was facing it in a way that she couldn't help but find admirable.

Raetia, birthplace of the Blade Breaker, the strongest knight in all of Fódlan, and it was being turned into a place of medical learning and revelation. The irony was lost on very few, especially Catherine who was there when Byleth presented his personally-drawn up plans for a hospital. Lady Rhea had helped him, in fact, as he revealed to her, quite a few of his ideas he'd ran past her in order to get her input. Catherine was quite pleased by it.

She was also unexpectedly pleased to find herself working alongside her secret lover and countless others. Sleeves rolled up, hammer and nail in one hand or a measuring stick in the other. At the moment, Thunder Catherine was no knight, she was merely a worker, just like the half-dozen other who tooled about beside her. Most of them were her age and quite a few younger, teenagers and even pre-teens. She liked to think some of them had likely been pressed into working by their parents or guardians. It certainly beat laying about in their homes doing goddess knew what.

It was a beautiful day, a fair wind blowing thus allowing everyone to work in relative bless. But even then, Catherine remained watchful and alert.

Everyone who passed by Byleth, she watched like a hawk, silently discerning rather or not they carried ill intent towards her lover. The only person she'd ever watched so intensely had been Lady Rhea, and even then, Catherine couldn't quite bite down a strange twisting in her stomach when she saw some of the _women _interacting with him.

Some of them trying to _flirt _with him.

_**CRACK! **_

"U-U-Um, Ms. Catherine?"

"Huh?" It was a well-known fact that she was a physically strong woman, as in strong enough to potentially knock out a bear if she wanted to. Of course, beams of wood stood no chance against her strength. "O-Oh, sorry about that! Give me a second, I'll fix it!" Taking a step to the side, she looked at the wooden beam that she'd been about to carry over when she saw Byleth getting his face cleaned by some talkative brunette from nowhere. Byleth was smiling, even if only it was to be polite. Catherine wasn't quite sure she liked it coupled with the constant giggling her ears picked up.

Placing her hand over the crack, she quieted her mind and focused her magical energy, formulas and equations running through her hand. There was a slight glow from a magic sigil followed by a short burst of light. Pulling her hands back, she saw that the crack had been repaired and the wooden support beam as good as new.

The old her never would have dreamed of being able to do such a thing, hell, the old her wouldn't have broken the wooden beam in the first place.

So far, one of the pre-set three floors had been completed. By week's end they should be finished working on the second, maybe even a day or two before that. It was quite surprising as construction had begun almost a month ago, yet so much had been accomplished in that time. The rapid pace could likely be attributed to the willingness of the populace to work with the Church of Seiros; such a trait made them an outlier in the currently former land of Adrestia. And a target.

Given that Byleth himself was helping out and practically everyone knew he would be the next Archbishop, security had been one luxury the knights did not skip on. Around the city's four "guard towers" sat a garrison of knights, her closest friend amongst the one stationed to the south. The term "occupying army" was quite common, albeit there were some who were surprisingly receptive and even welcoming to the knights. After all, while a majority of Adrestians were still in the grip of shock, a slow growing minority had no wish to plunge the country into further conflict, especially since far from being oppressive, the Kingdom and Church were doing what they could to ease tensions and aid the less fortunate.

It was something that hadn't been seen in years, decades, arguably even a century.

Taking a step back, Catherine couldn't help but marvel at the almost half-finished wooden structure that would serve as a medical center for the entire town, and perhaps even the region. Raetia was still standing, but during the war a good portion of it had still been hit hard by fighting, namely when the United Kingdom-Church-Alliance army came marching through, or rather passed through. Luckily, the well-populated city hadn't directly been in the line of fire…but it had been the place of urban skirmishes that Byleth himself had led. She'd absent-minded followed after him, not realizing that his reasons were more personal than tactical.

He wanted to save his father's hometown while there was still something left of it.

"Catherine?"

Again, he drew her out of her tempest of thoughts and contemplation. He looked…good, great really, brow covered in sweat which also stained his undershirt and a rag tossed over his neck. "Getting into the work ethic?" Lightly joked the younger man holding out a drinking flask towards her.

"While I like fighting, I think I can do with work like this." She laughed taking hold of the flask then having herself a hearty drink. "So I guess you're on break?"

The fact that she asked that and failed to take in how all the other workers had begun to quietly patter off showed how deeply she'd gotten into the building. Byleth was somewhat happy for that, happy and relieved. He was even more relieved when she agreed to sit down and eat lunch with him. It wasn't like there was any difference from when they'd eaten together before.

Except they were surrounded by dozens of workers while secretly seeing one another. And one of them had a target the size of a mountain on their heads, oh, and the memory of the morning's little…event, was still fresh in both their minds.

"Thank you."

"Hm?"

He'd grown so much more expressive over the years. As Catherine had learned, it was a result of him interacting with people on more than just a battlefield, like what they were doing now for example. "I said, thank you…for…you know, this sort of thing isn't really my thing." She declared motioning to the half-finished hospital that lay over the hill top they'd crossed for a little bit of privacy. "Back at the Monastery, Lady's Rhea's recovering, and normally I'd be standing guard over here. Instead, I'm here, helping build a hospital and even lending an occasional healing hand even though I'm not too good at it."

"I wouldn't say that, you helped keep the rest of us alive when we were broken down and bleeding like stuck pigs." Responded the former wanderer with a light smile.

"Only because of you." Catherine laughed back. "Seriously, look at me, if you'd told me I'd be out here, what, maybe six years ago, I'd likely have called your bluff and laughed in your face. Granted," Catherine added with an air of disappointment. "I seriously never thought that a continent-wide war would bring out. If one did…well, a part of me always thought that I'd die fighting in it. Heh, there were times I _did _think I was going to die."

Byleth's face fell, a dark shadow passing over it hearing her words. "I'm…Catherine, I'm sorry. I-"

Though romance wasn't exactly her strong suit, when it came to physical affection, the knight tended to act naturally. She reached out and caressed his cheek, just as he liked to do to her. It caught him off-guard; she relished in the moment of surprise. "Stop that. If anything…I've always wanted to say this to you…_I'm_ sorry. I'm sure you remember, just before the Imperial Army came crashing into the Monastery, I said I'd watch your back but I…I was far away, away from you when you needed someone beside you. You and Lady Rhea." Finished the blonde with a frown of her own darkening her face. That awful day was one she didn't like to look back on, but Catherine knew it would at times implant itself in her thoughts. It most certainly would as the Millennium Festival drew closer and everyone was reminded of the day of when Edelgard marched her army on Garreg Mach plunging the continent into war. An often-talked about subject of the time was where one was, what were they doing, when a new chapter of history began. "I thought about all the things you taught me, or tried to teach me." At times, she hadn't exactly been a receptive student when she joined in on some of his lessons.

"It's not like you were my worst student, that title goes to one, or maybe even six other people." Chirped back the minty-haired swordsman. "I'm just happy that what I taught was able to keep you alive."

"Not just me, but those under me and around me as well." Affirmed the blonde with a light smile. In spite of the dark emptiness that came with those times, there were also rays of light as well. The Knights of Seiros hadn't exactly had the best time during the five years Byleth was missing, Catherine certainly hadn't, but they'd made do. They'd been forced to if they expected to survive, rescue the Archbishop, and take back the land from the Empire's grip. "Those healing arts and procedures you taught me, I tried them out, sometimes not getting it quite right…but it helped me keep everyone alive. Heh, to be frank, that subtle priding you gave me about operating by myself may have helped."

"…And you're admitting that to my face?"

Grinning, she turned her soft caressing into a cheek pull. Byleth barely responded to it, at first. "Considering you're my future husband, I'm willing to let you get a few wins in."

Both wished the moment could have lasted longer, but the world moved on, even while they took the time to enjoy each other's company. His ears twitched as he looked up, spotting the familiar messenger bird coming his and Catherine's way. Holding his arm out, he allowed the brown-feathered creature to roost on his arm.

"Friend of yours?" Inquired the blonde knight noticing the small affection that grew on her future husband's face as he nuzzled the lightly-colored dove.

"More like the friend of a sort friend. Notice anything…peculiar about her?" Lightly jested the young adult warrior.

Catherine peered closely at the bird, recognizing it to be a collared dove, a rather common bird in in Empire territory. It turned to her and cocked its head, as if it too were examining her. To Catherine, a shimmering blue aura rose up, encircling the bird like some sort of ethereal coat.

Pulling back, she looked to her fiancé. "A familiar, can't say I'm surprised. I take it she belongs to the mayor? That's who's calling you?"

He nodded as he unfurled the message attached to the bird's neck. Catherine had gotten quite good at learning how to read the Ashen Demon's expressions, as brief or subtle as they were. First, there was hesitation, unease really. Then, it faded being replaced by a quiet acceptance that cemented Catherine's next decision.

* * *

_**Late Afternoon…**_

If there was any place that had without a doubt been rebuilt and even fortified, it was the residence of the mayor of Raetia. Such a thing was to be expected though as Reinhold Von Kerner had given the knights, more over the Church, permission to set up shop in his town. Not to mention he was on somewhat friendlier terms with Byleth, whose reputation had spread quite far.

Personally, Catherine didn't see much that set him apart from others. He was a man of average height, perhaps an inch or two shorter than Byleth who'd had a growth spurt propelling him to five-eleven. In contrast, Mayor Kerner stood closer to five-ten, perhaps just below it. Dressed in nicely pressed suit and tight and slacks, he looked every part the politician one would have expected him to. His well-clipped rust-colored hair and sharp moss green eyes only added to the look, they were the sort that told anyone who dared to gaze into them that he wasn't a man to be trifled with easily. Those eyes flickered to Catherine as she and Byleth entered his office.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd almost say you have the infamous Thunder Catherine as a bodyguard." There was an air of humor in his voice which wasn't missed by either of the sword- masters.

Byleth gave a rare chuckle while Catherine playfully crossed her arms. "Well, you're not too far off. Someone has to look after him."

"Being the son of the Blade Breaker and blessed by the goddess, you'd think he'd be the one doing the bodyguarding." Remarked the mayor.

The holder of both those titles continued to chuckle as the knight beside him rolled her eyes. That was another thing that differentiated him from his father, Byleth seemed to occasionally enjoy the praise and attention his reputation brought him. Or at least he did now that he'd learned how to emote. It made for quite an amusing thing to watch, that and seeing the reaction of his "bodyguard".

"Even with all of that, he still needs someone watching his back." Catherine defiantly stated.

Reinhold's grin grew. "And that someone is arguably the strongest warrior of the Knights of Seiros?"

"Is there a reason for you to call him here?" A knot was beginning to form on the blonde's forehead. Rather than fear, the two men felt amusement in seeing the building frustration on the tan-skinned woman's face. Catherine wished she could do something to change that, but try as she might she couldn't work anything up.

Gradually, Reinhold's face fell. With it came the dropping of an invisible blanket of drama and tension felt by the two Garreg Mach inhabitants. It seemed to weight more heavily on Byleth as he looked on with sorrowful eyes as Reinhold rummaged through his desk. When he came back up, there was a rolled-up set of documents that were quietly handed over to Byleth. Quietly, Catherine observed the way he looked at the documents after unsealing them. Something told Catherine that Mayor Kerner had been holding onto them for a while.

"Thank you for…thank you, sir." Byleth's voice was predictably quiet, practically sullen.

"It's the least I can do, especially since you went out of your way to ensure our fair town avoided the worst of the war. Not to mention you're now here helping out where you can. That said…I…well, there is something of a favor that I must ask." Requested the male brunette. He was measuring his words carefully, knowing that this was an emotional time. Catherine's eyes hardened, telling Reinhold to make his request quick least he find himself in hot water. "Little over two months ago, my oldest son just turned ten years old…I would like to know one day if he'd be able to enroll at the Officer's Academy, perhaps under your tutelage provided you still choose to teach."

The words seemed to jive Byleth awake from whatever personal bubble he'd fallen into. It also caught Catherine by surprise as well as the question was the last one she'd been expecting.

"I…" Began the male swordsman rapidly trying to think of a response. "Mayor Kerner-"

"You need not answer me now for I know you have a great many things to think about now." Softly cut off the green-eyed mayor while holding up his hand. "Besides, as I said, my son just turned ten, it'll be another five years at least before he is eligible to enroll at the Academy. By the time he comes of age I'm hoping the Monastery will be back to its former glory and the Officers Academy back up and running, or at least partially on the way there. Its original purpose was to foster goodwill amongst the three nations of Fódlan." A heavy-hearted sigh slipped from the politician's face. "I believe it's safe to say that goal failed by a large margin."

"I wouldn't say so." Catherine automatically shot off.

"Neither would I." Added the Enlightened One giving Reinhold a surprisingly upbeat smile. "After all, over a quarter of the Black Eagles House chose to stand with the rest of us at the Monastery rather than follow Edelgard when she declared war on the Church and Kingdom and Alliance. I believe there's something to be said, especially since some outright told me they couldn't bring themselves to turn their blades on their classmates and friends. In that way, I wouldn't say the Academy failed at fostering bonds between the three nations."

A moment of silence passed as the aged mayor looked between the two sword-users, both smiling. The female knight was practically beaming at the minty-haired divine warrior; there was no mistaking the affection and admiration that winkled in her eyes. Seeing such warmth from the famed Thunder Catherine was quite telling as far as Reinhold was concerned.

It solidified his believe that throwing his support behind this seemingly stoic young man was indeed the right decision. And that Fódlan's future may looking a bit brighter than he'd originally hoped.

* * *

Upon arriving at their destination, both Byleth and Catherine immediately wondered if Mayor Kerner had given some sort of decree regarding the library. It was quite big, occupying what amounted to two and a half city blocks with a stunning glass dome that reflected the evening sunlight perfectly. The building as well as those around it were cast in a flame-colored glow. Byleth found it strangely appropriate.

"How do you think he'd feel about his old home being refitted into a library? I mean, I didn't know your father all that well so…" Catherine was a blunt woman by nature, but she knew when and where to parse her words, especially when it came to people she cared about.

At first, the Ashen Demon was quiet, somewhat disturbingly so before finally speaking. "…I don't think he would have minded. I mean…he didn't let a lot of people know it, but he liked books and writing. In fact, he had the best hand writing you'd ever seen." Deep sorrow laced his voice causing Catherine to lace their hands together. That gave him the strength to keep on going. "He told me not to let it bother me too much, that I should focus on the present instead of the past. Heh…looking back, I'm pretty sure he was talking about himself just as much as me. I didn't have much of a past to struggle with, but…my father…"

"Byleth…"

Sucking in a quick breath, he lightly squeezed her hand. "Hold on tight…and…try not to get too mesmerized by what you see. Or…"

"Hey," She coolly interrupted. "I'm always at your side, come what may no matter how horrific or weird it is." In truth, she had little to no idea what her fiancé had planned, but she trusted him none the less. He came down to this portion of the city for answers, and Catherine knew he'd get them one way or another. A part of her was curious as to how that would be as he wasn't seeking any sort of legal or housing records, or that's not what it looked like. All Byleth had asked for was to know where the home of Jeralt Eisner once stood. They'd gotten that information.

And moments later, Catherine understood why her lover needed it.

Her eyes sensed the flare-up of magical energy before her eyes spotted the emerald-colored pulse radiate from the Ashen Demon. Immediately, she noticed something amiss as the energy felt…clearer, more pure. If she had to place a finger on it, it reminded her of Faith-based magic, except the feeling was much stronger.

It was only a prelude as what came next completely took her breath away, nearly literally.

The world around her became discolored, even the sunset falling behind the buildings lost its flaming gleam. Color returned to the world, blazing itself into a single shape behind the Ashen Demon. Blue eyes widened in realizing what shape it was-The Crest of Flames, the Crest of the Goddess, the Crest carried by her fiancé and no one else.

As she turned to question him, she stopped dead in her tracks. Mystical light blazed from the Ashen Demon's eyes as he held out his left hand. Before the two of them, the image of the library cracked like glass, then it shattered; were it not for his grip on her, Catherine felt like she would have plummeted into a pitch-black abyss. As she whipped her head from side to side, she saw new shapes form, gray and black-colored. They were buildings, shops, street corners.

Then they began to deconstruct themselves. Four-story structures were stripped down, man-made cranes and tarps to protect the building site from the rain. Her mind racing, Catherine looked back to the library, it too was being "deconstructed".

No, with a gasp, she realized what was happening was she was seeing the library and the surrounding area being _built_. Time was rolling backwards.

And her lover was the cause of it.

_T-T-This is the power of his Crest, t-t-the Crest of Flames!_ Stammered the knight as the sizable library vanished from her eyes. They were now at a time before it was built and something else stood in its place.

Or something did, fire was eating away at the former structure and the rest of the block. Pale-colored flames swept around the two of them. At first, Catherine felt an instinctive urge to use magic to protect them, but then she stopped as she took in the monochrome color of the flames.

The flames died eventually died down giving a clearer look at what had stood before.

Having lived a warrior's life as well as been around, Catherine was able to recognize a blacksmith shop when she saw one. It stood somewhat apart from the other buildings in the area, a good amount of space allotted to the forgery, and perhaps a precaution in case a fire broke out, which evidently would in the future.

But what caught Catherine's attention was the logo carved into the wooden sign that stood above the door. She would have recognized it anywhere.

"_Hey! Old man, I'm back from another delivery! And I got the payment!" _

The voice made them snap their heads in one direction, and their eyes widened.

His dirty blonde hair a shade lighter than Byleth remembered, devoid of any gray streaks as their had been when the two sword fighters last saw him. His face was lacking in wrinkles as well, which was to be expected given instead of the gruff fifty-something that they'd known him to be, or thought they knew him to be, he was a teenager.

Jeralt Eisner, age fifteen or so.

A cocky grin stretched across his face as he held up a leather bag no doubt filled with coins. Smirking, he twirled about in a way that Byleth recognized as a tall and lank figure came rushing in behind him, blue eyes set on grabbing at the bag. The future Blade Breaker snickered as he moved aside and watched his friend stumble over his feet, eventually crashing onto his face while he laughed in triumph.

"_You know, one day I'm going to get the drop on you." _Grumbled the redheaded teen wiping the dirt off his face.

"_Maybe one day when I'm old and wrinkled, until then, Gavin." _Chuckled the dirt blond while offering the redhead a helping hand. Smiling, he took it as he rose up. Jeralt's attention fell on the double-doors, which swung open allowing the supposed owner of the establishment to step out into the mid-day light.

"_Hopin' you didn't make a mess of things, did ya', Jeralt?"_ Grunted the approaching figure. The teenager merely chuckled as he tossed the money-filled bag to the out-stretched hand. In one look, it was readily obvious what the relationship was between the two was. Skin marred by forge fires sharply contrasted to the light complexion held by the future knight, as did his dirty blond hair to his father's deep black strands, most of which lay in a curled-up bundle behind his head. As opposed to the mischief-lined brown of the youngster, the blacksmith's teal-colored eyes shined with a type of seasoned wisdom that Byleth had seen twinkle in his father's eyes, his aged father's eyes.

A chuckle of amusement, that's what was heard before the image shattered like glass. Bright and brimming color returned to the world, as did the features of the present day. It caught Catherine off-guard, but not as much as the sudden absence of the hand that had held her through the surreal experience.

"B-Byleth?! By…" Her heart stopped as she watched the master swordsman and archer and brawler collapse onto his knees. "Oh, Byleth," Whispered the Knight of Seiros throwing her arms around him not a heartbeat later. As tenderly as she could manage, she rubbed the back of his head with her thumb, a soothing mechanism her own mother had used on her and her siblings. That memory caused her heart to throb in sadness, but it was minuscule compared to what her beloved was experiencing. "Just let it out, just let it all out." She softly encouraged as she felt the normally composed man shake and quiver in her arms.

He tried to apologize to her, she told him that he had no reason. She told him that he should never feel ashamed or apologized for crying in front of her.

When he returned to them, he'd become her pillar of strength, not that she ever said as much. There was never a need to as they spoke to one another through their actions. That's how Catherine spoke to Byleth this time around.

She didn't question him on what he'd just done, on exactly what sort of power his Crest contained, none of that mattered to her. All that did matter was being an anchor of stability for the man she loved.

None were around to witness the tear-stricken proof that the Ashen Demon had feelings. That in spite of the divine power coursing through him and hundreds dead by his blade, he was still very much a mortal man capable of feelings, capable of being overwhelmed by those feelings. There was no shame in that, and anyone who thought otherwise could answer to the blonde knight and her thunder-infused sword. On the subject of said knight, what was unfolding was a rear insight int the softer side of the knight, the person that she believed she could never be.

Thanks to the man in her arms, she could at least work at that, something more than a warrior, a sword to be swung at enemies. In turn, she vowed she'd remain at Byleth's side to further prove that he could be more than a sword as well.

They could be people, people who supported one another, at their highest and their lowest points.

* * *

**It wasn't entirely my intention to start this chapter off on a bright note then end on some emotional consoling, but things turned out quite different once I started writing. One of the center points of this story is exploring Byleth and Catherine's pasts, that includes their families and I'm starting with Byleth's. **

**Over the course of the game, namely Part I, Byleth makes some odd and even reckless decisions that Sothis chastises him for. As I've seen some suggestion, the reason for that is because he's acting on his emotions for the first time in his life. The desire to protect, the desire to avenge, and the ability to feel regret and sadness all hit him with a little more force leading to some interesting reactions. In the case of his biological family, well, it's regret in never really giving them much thought, or as will be revealed latter on, appreciating his father's presence. Being able to turn back time but only view it kind of drives the wedge deeper in my opinion thus leading to his breakdown. **

**On the subject of time, given Sothis statement about "both sides of time", I took some liberties in giving Byleth some more time-based abilities. One of them is being able to view the past of people or areas such as what he did with the library, which is where his father and grandfather once lived. As I discovered, the surname Eisner, is Germanic in origin, and usually refers to one whose job is blacksmithing or ironworking. Jeralt's name is also likely derived from Gerald, a German name meaning "rule of the spear"; take it all together and I theorize that Jeralt might have originally been from Adrestia, which seems to be Three Houses' equivalent of Germany, more or less. **

**Next chapter will see Byleth and Catherine returning to the Monastery, and one person in particular who knows she and the former have a long overdue talk ahead of them. Until then!**


	3. Chapter 3-Tell Me My Story

**Sorry for the unexpected hiatus, everyone. Got a little bit sidetracked, but I'm back! And just in time as the Cindered Shadows DLC released some much-needed info on Byleth's mother whom I definitely planned on spotlight in this story. Suppose setbacks can have their advantages. **

**I do not own anything.**

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_**Chapter 3-Tell Me My Story**_

In the end, it took around four years, by which point the sun had begun setting and night was falling. Catherine offered to take him back to their apartment room, but Byleth told her that he wanted to stay out for a little while longer. She didn't have the heart to protest his choice, not to mention a part of her realized that he needed something, anything, to clear his head of all that they had seen. All that they had discovered.

It'd been…informative, for both of them.

The manipulation of time, that's what Byleth had told her was one of the powers of the Crest of Flames. Given its extreme rarity, next to nothing was known about what its powers entitled unlike the dozens of other Crests that were scattered throughout the bloodlines of Fódlan, including her own Crest of Charon. Catherine knew for a fact that Crest scholars across the continent, _especially _their own Hanneman would have given anything to experience what she had just gone through, and probably would have been clamoring for a repeat. Personally, Catherine wondered if she'd seen enough time-bending to last a life time given how surreal the experience had been.

And yet she knew there would likely be more in store, especially since the man she loved could do so on what he at times described as a whim.

However, all of that was secondary to the emotional toll it took on Byleth. According to him, the only time he'd ever cried was when his father had died in his arms and he was powerless to do anything about it. Catherine told him that experience would have been enough to move anyone to tears, and she would know as she felt the exact same way when her mother passed away. When all was said and done, it wasn't the act of delving into the past that had left the Ashen Demon exhausted, it was what they had seen-the story of the Eisner Family play out up to a certain point, the story of Byleth's family. A family that he never knew of it.

He now knew the name of his grandfather and grandmother, his father's parents whom he'd rarely spoken of. What few times he had spoken of them had been…distant, almost like he was struggling to recall some lost memories. Still, Byleth could remember a slight fondness and a twinkle in his father's eyes, especially when he spoke of his own father, his grandfather. The more he looked back on it, the more he realized that twinkle really came out when they were around a forge. His father was the one who taught him to how to sharpen a blade and keep it sharpened, and if push came to shove, reforge it with the proper materials. Now he knew where his father had gained such knowledge, it had been installed in him by his own father.

Anselm Eisner, proud yet humble blacksmith, heralded as one of the greatest blacksmiths in the land. He certainly didn't live that way though, maintaining a rather small forge with a modest number of workers, just above ten including his only son, who himself took to currying finished products not just across Raetia, but across the surrounding lands as well. It certainly explained how his father had gotten so good at riding on horseback, and even the backs of wyverns.

And as he and Catherin discovered, on the backs of griffins as well.

The blonde had let out a startled gasp, one of many that evening, when they watched a time when the future Blade Breaker came back riding atop a griffin. Of course, the beast was a "gift" from an associate with Faerghus, where the hybrid creatures had once been plentiful. Catherine admittedly stared in wide-eyed shock at the majestic creature as it touched down in front of Eisner Forging. Like the rest of her generation, the only time she'd ever seen a griffin was in a textbook as they'd gone extinct by the time she'd come of age. To see one in the flesh, if only just a memory was quite an experience.

So too was watching the majestic beast succumb to illness eventually forcing a grief-stricken Jeralt to put the poor thing out of its misery. Byleth himself somewhat choked up seeing his father have to do so; he was likely sympathizing with both his parent and the dying griffin. Mercy killing was never a pleasant thing, be it on a person or an animal.

As it so happened, the griffin's death, Armin's death, was the beginning in a slow-moving tragedy that would eventually drive Jeralt from Raetia, and make the man quite stingy about coming back to his hometown in future years.

A grave was made for Armin, Ut would eventually be joined another, one for Vreni Eisner, wife of Anselm Eisner and mother Jeralt Eisner. And Byleth's grandmother.

Fortunate smiled upon him as while temporarily reliving the pass, Byleth was able to catch several glimpses of the woman who'd brought his father into this world. Catherine was there with him as he let tears escape his cheeks seeing a somewhat portly dirty blonde-haired woman direct orders to just his father, but his grandfather as well…who often reminded her that technically speaking h was the owner of the forge. Vreni did kindly reminded that _she _was his wife.

Catherine politely jabbed him, telling him that she was taking notes. Byleth was beyond happy for the reminder that what he was witnessing his family's past together with someone, someone who would be a part of his family. Not to mention birthing the next generation of Eisners. The knight kept her gloved hand wrapped tightly in his, giving it light squeezes when Byleth felt his focus slipping. As he always did for her, she did for him in keeping him steady. That was especially needed when the matriarch of the Eisner Family was struck down right in front of the forge by an assailant in the middle of the night, her body discovered as dawn broke. Byleth grieved with his father and grandfather, and the rest of the workers when they found her corpse and a note buried beneath it.

It all came together in the next several memories. Armin and Vreni's deaths, all plotted by a greedy noble who'd demanded a weapon forged and his grandfather's refusal to do so. At least until his wife and his son's mount were slain in acts of treachery that left Byleth's blood boiling; Catherine's as well in seeing the cowardly acts unfolding before her eyes.

After the death of the family's pet griffin, Anselm decided to forge the sword. The Ashen Demon and Thunder Catherine watched with sadden eyes as the once grouchy but ultimately noble blacksmith pounded away at a sword he'd been commissioned to build, using materials that had been locked away and most likely never meant for usage. Vengeance had brought those materials out leaving Byleth to watch as his grandfather slaved over a project that he knew in his heart was going to be his last. Catherine knew so as well leading them both to watch the past replay itself as if they were watching a tragedy being performed on stage. That's exactly what it was, a tragedy just for them, featuring people whom they'd never known, whom Byleth had never truly known, yet felt such an intimate connection with. It could only be called a cruel joke as that connection grew stronger as he watched the forge become the sight of a fierce battle that ended with his grandfather plunging his newly made sword into the ground, magical energy blazing from the gemstone built into the weapon's guard.

The pair could almost feel the heat from the explosion as it tore through the forge and the surrounding area, annihilating everything in the blast radius, including Anselm Eisner who was at the center of the explosion, having caused it. Those who'd come to besiege the forge got a few seconds of screaming in before either death claimed them or they were hurled backward by the explosive force. Even afterward, the fire continued to rage, spreading to consume the entire block.

Much like the two of them, a young Jeralt Eisner, age probably close to Byleth's own, watched the blaze spread, taking with it his family and home. Nowhere to be found was the stoicism that his father had been known for, it had likely come about from watching his whole world go up in flames. Tears poured down his cheeks the same way they had when Byleth had held his dying body in his arms that rainy day. It took the instance of his friend and coworker, Gavin, to move away from the fire. Byleth could see in his father's eyes he wanted to run into the fire, perhaps to put it out. It was something that he thought his father would do, and something that Byleth knew he would try to do as well in spite of the futility of the act. Ultimately, it took the hand of another to pull him away. The Ashen Demon stood still as his father's younger phantom raced past him, a sack of valuables slung over his back and tears streaming from his eyes.

After that, the blaze was eventually put out. There was little disguising what, or rather who, had been the cause. Rage simmered within the male swordsman when he heard his grandfather's name spoken along with the words, "insanity", "madness", "cheapskate", and "coward". In yet another reversal, Catherine's firm hand had to be there to calm him down. When he looked to her, the knight's face was always one of gentle understanding, something that was somewhat unlike her. She was the hot-blooded one, the one who embraced her emotions and stood strong against any dissenting voices and met them with equal fervor. This time, she was the calming influence, the strong pillar that was leaned on for support.

Byleth sorely needed it as after that memory, the strength in his legs gave out. Tears were pouring down his eyes, even as he tried to stop them. Acting on sheer impulse, Catherine pulled him into a tight embrace, his face ending up buried in the crux of her neck. She wasn't used to the feel of tears hitting her neck, but she welcomed the new feeling. For the life that lay ahead of her, it would likely be a recurring trend, especially if children became involved at some point.

"You don't have to keep going, I…I think we've seen enough, Byleth." She whispered into him as he pulled away. He looked as emotionally drained as one would have expected from watching a loved one perish.

However, this was the Ashen Demon, the Divine Demon. "N-No…I…have to…no, I _want _to see what happened after the fire. After…" Quietly accepting his decision, Catherine raised a single hand to his cheek, then lightly bumped their foreheads together. "Thank you for putting up with me." He laughed with dim amusement.

Chuckling, she leaned forward and stole a quick kiss on his lips. "That's my line."

One last time, he summoned forth the power of the goddess, exerting his will over the flow of time. Once more, the sword-swinging pair saw a fire being put out leaving behind smoldering remains in its wake. Those remains were of course sealed off, a handful coming to either pay their respects or speculate over what had happened. Listening to the chatter, Byleth concluded his family's affairs hadn't exactly been a well-kept secret. Several noted they weren't surprised when Anselm lured his enemies to his home then killed them in one swoop, but not before sending his son away with the intent of having him live his own life. That wish had more than certainly been fulfilled, and yet, that simply made it all the harder for Byleth to swallow what had happened.

He had no choice but to accept it though. What he was seeing was the past, little over a hundred years into the past; all he could do was formulate his own thoughts and feelings, and come to a conclusion with them.

Almost eighteen years after the fire, it was decided something would be built in its place-a library. Though he, they, had no reason to, Byleth and Catherine watched the construction go up day by day, year by year until the massive structure that stood in the present day had been completely constructed. After that, Byleth simply let go and allowed himself to be held up by his blonde-haired lover.

"So…it seems like steel and conflict really are inherent to my family." Finally spoken the future Archbishop in a placid voice that was troubling to the knight beside him.

Catherine searched for something to say, but emotional comforting wasn't her department, it was his. "Well, with me at your side…hopefully you'll see a lot less of it. Hopefully our kids won't see as much of it as we have." The words came out of her mouth before her brain could fully comprehend them, which left the Knight of Seiros looking quite flustered as her lover turned to her with shocked eyes. Of all the topics for her to bring up to lift his mood, she'd gone with that one. "I-I-I m-m-mean t-t-that's i-if y-you w-want kids! J-Just a thought, n-nothing to-"

"You…wouldn't mind having…kids with me? Being the mother of my children?" It was the overwhelming shock and shyness in his voice that caught Catherine off-guard and made her go quiet. And blush. If Byleth wasn't so startled, he'd have had something to say about the blonde's cherry-red cheeks.

"I-It's not like there's anyone else who'd I'd consider…ya' know." She said looking away, cheeks still burning in spite of her efforts to quell the blush. It was a losing battle.

A moment of silence passed between them, and then finally came laughter. Though it caused her blushing to deepen, Catherine was overjoyed to see some semblance of positivity coming from him. Such heartfelt laughter was more than she was expecting, but she was far from dismissive of it. In seconds, she joined the divine warrior in his laughter. They must have looked quite an odd pair, standing before a public library at sunset laughing like fools. Surely such a thing wouldn't have been good for public relations, but for the two swordsmen, such a thing was about as far from their minds as possible.

Gradually, the sun sunk deeper and deeper beneath the horizon signaling the lighting of several torches around town. Likewise, above the heads of the pair, the first stars began to gradually become visible in a night sky. Byleth looked up at them, wondering how many times his father had looked up to the same celestial glows in his youth. Looking back down, he found something even more dazzling beside him.

"Let's go for a walk." He spoke so plainly that Catherine did a double-take. All he had to do was smile again and she regained her bearings. To the male swordsman's glee, a vigorous nod was a confirmation of his request.

Bluntly speaking, the number of real-life dates they'd been on could be counted on one's hands. It wasn't like their relationship had truly solidified itself during the war, arguably only during the last phase of it, and even that was pushing it. Of course, that wasn't to say that they didn't spend time together during the war, or rather in-between battles. They had, but there had been the hanging shadow of a continent-wide war hanging over them; that wasn't the case in the here and now. Granted, there was still the occasional threat of an assassin or disgruntled imperial native, even especially night crawler, finding their way to them. While that possibility was there, neither of them paid it much mind, what they did pay attention to was enjoying one another's company.

Catherine felt what could only be described as butterflies in her stomach as she and Byleth walked the rather lively streets, hand-in-hand. They weren't exactly trying to hide themselves, a fact that she felt a hint of joy in.

_I'm seriously walking down the streets with a guy who…proposed to me. And I said yes. _She caught him looking over at her, a warm smile on his face. No doubt it was because of the omnipresent blush that remained on her face. It was admittedly hard not to blush. _Suppose I can only thank the goddess that Shamir isn't here to see this, granted she'll probably hear about it. _A part of her wondered what her closest friend would say about her blushing up a storm like a school girl in spite of her own boisterous demeanor. It'd probably include a wisecrack or two.

"Hey, Catherine?"

"Hm, what is it?"

"Do you have any…questions about what you saw me do? About the Crest of Flames?"

She was silent for a moment, then she decided to broach the topic. "A bunch, so many that a part of me doesn't even know where to begin." He seemed to be expecting her answer; knowing Byleth, he'd likely already guessed several of the questions she had and wanted to ask him. "You don't have to answer them. Your Crest, your secret." She offered lightly bumping his shoulder against hers.

He looked to her with a sympathetic smile, one that quietly made her heart soar for reasons she couldn't quite decipher. "True…but you're my fiancée so…you are entitled to know. In fact, if we're being honest, I…could really use someone to share it with. No better person than you, especially since it could make your job as my bodyguard a little less stressful."

"Oh? You're telling me all of this before someone like say, Hanneman?"

A hearty laugh flew from his lips causing Catherine's smile to deepen. "I'd much prefer talking to you about it. And I think I know just the place, follow me!"

His next action all but completed the near fairy tale-like atmosphere of the moment. He guided her by the hand, some form of excitement swelling up in his face as he pulled her along. Of course, she kept pace with him. Catherine was glad that he was looking on ahead instead of back at her; if Byleth saw just how jubilant she was then there's a good chance the thunderous knight might have died of embarrassment. It was already enough to hear the ring of laughter and gasps from those whom they hurried past.

_Well, there goes some portion of my reputation as the most fearsome woman in the Knights of Seiros. _She thought with genuine amusement. _Then again…_Looking to the head of minty green hair so like Lady Rhea's, Catherine let out a physical giggle. Some things were truly worth sacrificing for.

All he went on was a lingering sense of directions given to him by his late father, who himself had told him that he might not have been remembering things right. Even so, Byleth put his faith in his father's words and memories.

Fortunately, based on the rapidly changing scenery around them, he was on the right track. Gradually, the brick and stone of the town became overcome by greenery which had works its way through several aged cracks in the half-demolished buildings around them. Chief among them was a massive tower that formed the basis of a towering tree whose branches seemingly spread out along the sky. Excitement rushing through him, Byleth concentrated a small amount of magic into his feet. With an ear-to-ear grin, he launched himself upward, pulling the blonde-haired knight beside him into his arms.

"I-I thought I told you to stop doing this!" Catherine cried, her face flaming red as she realized the positions they were. All the jokes she'd made about breaking into the Imperial Dungeon and carrying out Rhea in both arms, and potentially doing the same to Byleth, were flipped on the head as she was the one being carried bridal-style. Not that she was complaining about any of it.

"What can I say, maybe I just like doing it." Chirped the Ashen Demon as they softly landed on one of the gigantic branches. She looked ready to snap at him, but all Byleth did was continue to smile at her, feeding the fire in her cheeks. His plan worked like a charm.

"Goddess! I hate how cute you can be! Seriously, have you been practicing or something?!" Exclaimed the swordswoman throwing up her arms in defeat.

Chuckling, the swordsman looked up to the starry sky. "Well, Sylvain and Lorenz have been giving me some charm lessons. They said as Archbishop I was going to be needing them, Seteth too for when I had to use diplomacy instead of a blade. Think I've made some headway?"

Blushing like a cherry, she looked away from him. "You're the teacher, you tell me."

His laughter rung in her ears. If there was ever a time for her head to finally ignite, now would be it. He was making such a fool out of her! And Catherine couldn't stay mad at him for doing so! Hell, a part of her was even thankfully for his sudden charm. In particular, she was happy that it was being directed towards her and not any of the other women that he interacted with. Not that she'd let him know that, not until they'd made the news of their engagement public; Catherine had a gut feeling that would happen before the year was over with.

Pushing away the thoughts of the future, she looked to what lay before her eyes in the here and now. This tree that had grown over a watchtower offered quite a view over the town of Raetia. Seeing the see of torch lights, Catherine realized that she and Byleth had practically traveled to the edge of the town. It didn't feel like they'd traveled that far, but as she'd discovered, her lover was capable of manipulating time on what she guessed was a whim. She whistled at the sea of lights before the two of them, a sea of light that seemingly existed solely for her and him. It greatly reminded her of the view offered at the Monastery from one of the many towers that overlooked the centuries old structure and mountain range. Except she could say this time felt better.

Byleth was grateful that Catherine was patient enough to wait for him to internally gather himself. "The Crest of Flames allows me to manipulate time, amongst other things. What I did back there, it's an application of an ability called Divine Pulse that allows me to turn back time." He began.

The knight's eyes rose as she looked to him. "S-Seriously? Y-You can do that? Turn back time on a…" Seeing his face, the rest of the statement died in her mouth. Catherine liked to think her ability to reign in the rising geyser of emotions inside of her showed that she'd grown, if only just a little bit. "I…take it there are…limits to how far back you can go?"

"Sixty-nine minutes, that's how far back I can roll back time, and that's when I'm at top strength." Came his cool response. "Also, I have to be able to focus…" His calm demeanor was broken by a humorless laugh as he swung his legs back and forth over the branch. "Falling down a chasm after being blasted by some pale-skinned sorcerer doesn't exactly allow you the clarity of mind to focus."

_So…that's what happened back there. _When he returned to them after five years, he'd been rather tight-lipped about what had happened. No, it was more accurate to say he'd been vague, only telling them that the Crest of the Goddess had saved him. Catherine now had a bit of an understanding how, even though she hadn't gone a direct answer.

As if sensing out her building thoughts, Byleth reached forward and held out his hand creating an emerald and gold-laced flame. The divine glow bathed him in its light, giving his minty-green hair a truly ethereal shine. "When I fell down into that chasm, I was in something you could call a time stasis, it prevented time from passing for my body while I healed. On the outside though…you all had to make due without me." Sorrow tinged his voice as he directed his gaze towards her.

"It…wasn't easy." Her usual immediate response would have been to boost and say they got by. They did, but considering how bad things got, for not just the Knights of Seiros but the Blue Lions as well, Catherine didn't feel it was right to try to make light of things. Especially in the face of how genuine her lover was being. "So, you can move time backward, stop it, and…I don't know, maybe see into the future?"

At that, he smiled at her. "Future sight, that's what I call it. It's allowed me to see enemy moves and react in advance. Came in handy…but so did the ability to reverse time. If anything, I'd say that ability outweighs all others."

"Byleth," Catherine began having gained a slim idea of where he was going. If he could roll back time, and for him to speak so highly of the ability, Catherine felt like there was only one possible conclusion. One thing that she knew beyond a certain doubt was that Byleth cared deeply for the people around him, so much that he'd blindly charge into any situation no matter how bad to safeguard them. Swallowing a lump in her throat, she pointed one ungloved finger at herself. "Have I ever…"

Pain flashed through his eyes at her implication. "Several times you were in close spots…but…the worst was at the Battle of Fhirdiad. You…you…you took a blast of fire magic to the chest and it…it…"

The memory popped into her mind with such surprising clarity it might as well have been delivered via arrow. One minute she was charting towards the enemy on the city streets, and the next the enemies she'd been destined to meet had been torn to shreds, their slayer standing in front of her. There had been something extremely startling about seeing Byleth turn to her with a mixture of horror and relief, blood dripping from the Sword of the Creator. Catherine had filed it away into the back of her mind, along with several other strange occurrences where the Ashen Demon had seemed rather distressed and relieved at the same time. Now, she knew why.

Sucking in a breath, she reached over, catching him by surprise. He had a moment to stare into her bright blue eyes before she pressed her lips against his. At the height they were at and position they were in, it wasn't exactly an ideal thing to do since they could have fallen dozens of feet to the ground. None of that stopped Catherine as she tenderly melded her lips against her fiancée's. At first, he was caught off-guard as she usually was, but he quickly gave into the kiss. Quickly manifested a desperate need that Catherine was all too willing to satisfy.

Even after they separated to taking gulfs of air, the need remained. Catherine brought him in for another kiss, remaining surprisingly mindful of their high altitude. This one was the same as the first, dragging on until they ran out and air and were forced to separate. There would have been a third, but the two sword fighters caught hold of their wits and held themselves back.

"You're not…angry?" Began the younger of the two.

"Why the hell would I be angry? You just told me that you saved my life, and the lives of everyone else…more times than I can probably count." Catherine responded with a hearty laugh. "It all means that you're way more special than I ever thought."

"Does that excuse the fact that I-"

"You've done your best. And your best helped drag Dimitri back from the edge of insanity, pull us all together, and help put an end to a war that was going to leave the continent a smoldering wasteland." Gently cut off the former heiress. "Let me guess, you're waiting for me to explode in some kind of seething anger about you being able to manipulate time, yet still so many horrible things happening?"

"I wouldn't exactly blame you if you toss me to the ground, it is a pretty big drop and I'd probably crack my head open." He mumbled, with a blush of all things.

For one reason or another, Catherine found it cute. "Something tells me you'd survive the fall. I mean, apparently you survived falling into a massive chasm and came out no worse for wear."

Now it was his turn to laugh. "Granted it took me five years to do so."

She conceded that point to him with a chuckle. "You came back all the same, like you always do…because you cared about us." Cradling his face, she continued to speak in that soft voice that always made him look at the normally blunt and boastful knight in a different light. "Byleth, while you may not be the most social guy I've ever met, you're probably one of the ones with the biggest hearts. I've seen that big heart in action, and that's how I know…any time you could, you used the Crest of Flames to roll back time as far back as you could. That said…odds were…there were probably some things that…some things that not even the power of the goddess could change." As bitter as it was, Catherine knew she'd hit the nail on the head as shown in the pain and regret that flashed across Byleth's eyes. Just as she opened her mouth to speak again, he cut her off.

"I…I tried so many times to save him." Raw emotion colored his voice leaving Catherine to conclude he could only be talking about one person. Without missing a beat, the knight pulled him into a tight hug. "Fate…that's what…it was his _fate_ to die there that day…stabbed in the back and bleeding out in my arms." A familiar river of pain and self-hatred threaten to burst forth from within him. Holding it back was a combination of his own self-restraint and Catherine's physical presence, her warmth.

"You did everything you could, and that's…that's all that can be said about it. You tried, you tried with all your heart to save your father." She spoke, practically able to feel the self-loathing inside of him. That was something she could sympathize with, a burden that Byleth had done his best to uplift off of her. As his guardian, as his lover, it was her duty to do the same for him. "Byleth…you're still only human, there's only so much that one person can do, even with the power of the goddess inside of you."

Her words reminded him very much of Dimitri's thoughts regarding the nature of strength, weaknesses, and where one stood in-between those two things. His student had given his heartfelt gratitude to them all claiming without all of them, he knew he'd either be dead or a wondering blood-starved beast. Ironically, when he spoke to him afterwards, Dimitri reminded Byleth that the need for others was something he had installed into all of them when they were still students at the Officers Academy. Byleth couldn't help but laugh then, just as he couldn't help but laugh now.

"You all…you all really made me into a real human being." Came his whisper.

Deep down, Catherine wondered how much of her lover's stoicism was inherent from his father and how much of it was because of…something else. She'd heard the stories that the Ashen Demon could be like a walking corpse with a sword, mindlessly cutting down anything or anyone that crossed his path. To say that she'd been slightly concerned when such a person was made a teacher at the Officer's Academy _and _an instant favorite of her lady would have been a bit of an understatement. Then she saw that the stories weren't exactly true, or that if they had been, then Byleth Eisner was undergoing a radical change in character. She saw the genuine emotion on his face when he interacted with his students and fellow teachers and even the knights, including herself.

"I'm happy that you came to the Monastery, really proves that the place is special." She said.

"Do you think in-between being Archbishop I'll be able to carve out some time for teaching?" Came the divine warrior's response.

"Oh, I think Seteth will be able to stand-in for you from time to time. Besides, I'm sure students would love having not just the legendary Divine Demon, but also the Hero of Garreg Mach coming down to give them some pointers." Almost immediately, the mental image had her heart thumping with joy. Her love always looked so natural and happy when he was helping to guide others, something that made him a rather fitting successor to Rhea as the Archbishop of the Church. "Would you…mind having a teacher's assistant from time to time?" Added the blonde in a shy voice that caused the green-haired man to chuckle.

"Just as long as you promise not to scare them too much." Byleth answered.

Of all the ways that Catherine imagined her post-war life going, this one wasn't exactly it. She believed it'd be spent dutifully serving Rhea and the Knights of Seiros. While she was doing both of those things, they had become second to spending time with the enigma that was Byleth Eisner, the enigma that she loved from the bottom of her heart. Though she'd always be a knight, around him, at moments like this, Catherine felt she could be reminded that she was also a woman…a woman who'd gotten incredibly lucky.

* * *

_**Garreg Mach Monastery…**_

Perhaps it was befitting for a seemingly immortal deity to have issues with time. On one hand, immorality supposedly granted one all the time in the world. If one followed that train of thought, they were in for a rude awakening. Time was precious, and every second of it was to be cherished and used as wisely as possible.

During her five years of imprisonment, Rhea had come to realize how she'd woefully fallen short of the second part.

So many thoughts had ran through her mind as she sat alone in the darkness of the Imperial cell, that was when she wasn't struggling to endure the hate-filled torture of the Agarthans who'd been the hand behind the late Adrestian Emperor. In a bitter twist of irony, that torture had given her more reason to self-reflect and realize how badly she'd failed.

How she'd failed the woman who saw her as her mother, whom she saw as her daughter more so than any others. She'd failed the man whom she'd fallen in love with, and lastly…she'd failed their son who'd been forced to shoulder a burden that he would have been better off free of.

Rhea inhaled as she picked up the approaching footsteps. She had maybe a minute or two to gather her thoughts and feelings. There was no need to harden her resolve as that had been done ages ago; or to be more precise, six days ago when her successor and most devote knight returned from Raetia. Byleth had sought her out and explained to her how he'd rolled back time to glimpse his family history, more precisely, his father's side of the story.

"_I can see what you mean about him not being able to grow a full beard. He was…well, it was pretty weird seeing him looking so young. And not that gruff." _He'd told her when they sat down for tea together.

Rhea had laughed at the statement. Though it'd literally been a century, she could still fondly remember the Blade Breaker's surprisingly youthful face, at least before he truly began to grow into a man.

He had one side of the familial puzzle he'd been longing to achieve. Only that was left was the other half, the half that Rhea had no doubt would leave him filled with questions…and perhaps even completely warranted anger towards her. She'd bear it all as she had it coming, that and so much more.

Outside the window, the sun was shining, perhaps as a symbol of encouragement. It still wasn't enough for Rhea to get her hopes up particularly high.

The door creaked open and in stepped Byleth Eisner and Catherine. One look on the former's face and she could tell that he was as nervous as she was; Rhea found something oddly comforting in that.

"Um, I'm assuming this is about what I think it's about?" Byleth began casting a glance between his lover and the woman who'd set him on the path to learning how to feel human emotions.

"Your visit to Raetia was rather enlightening, I'd like to believe I can do the same. With the added bonus of neither of you having to travel too far and put your lives in danger." Offered the pointy-eared woman electing a smile from the two.

"Especially with me here." Added the swordswoman. "Still, one of these days…it wouldn't surprise me if they tried to infiltrate Garreg Mach again."

"An effort will likely be made when I'm coronated as the next Archbishop." There was as pause as Byleth looked to the long-haired woman with sorrowful eyes. "Is there any way for me to convince you to stay on as Archbishop?"

Rhea was sure that there were hundreds of people who'd launch into a stream of denials at the Ashen Demon's words. When she first announced her intention to pass the reigns onto him, he'd shown visible dismay and confusion at her choice. Others would be rather vocal in opposing him.

Sighing, she placed her hand over the table, her eyes downcast and shoulders heavy. "Byleth…I believe I already passed the reigns onto you, almost six years ago."

The memories of the time before the Battle of Garreg Mach were ones that he remembered with the most clarity. Unwanted clarity if he were being honest. Byleth had long wondered what he could have done differently that would have changed things, that could have saved lives and perhaps prevented such immense tragedies. He hunched over much like the woman across from him, an equal sorrow swirling around him.

Fittingly, it fell to the third member of the meeting to break the tension. "Look, I'm going to be incredibly blunt when saying this, maybe too much…but I think you both need to stop and realize you've done all that you could." Both minty-haired individuals looked up to the former heiress. Catherine looked more than a little dismayed at having the gaze of the two most important people in her lives looking at her. It truly made her feel like a fish out of water; that didn't stop her from trying though. "Look…dwelling on the past is good and all…but you can't keep doing it forever. What's done is done and keeping looking back on it isn't going to solve anything for anyone."

"Catherine…if I was able to accept the wisdom of those words, so much could have been avoided." Admitted the formerly imprisoned woman. "I have kept many secrets, secrets that…secrets that…I have carried for perhaps too long. Even now, I feel like rather than laying them bear, all I'm doing is shackling them onto you, Sweet Child." Her green eyes met Byleth, a ping of sorrow racing through them. This was the side of the outgoing Archbishop that some had long since expected existed-the sadness, the guilt, and the sense of failure that permutated her like a lingering phantom.

They were all things that Byleth had grown used to, and things he'd learned to empathize with as evident by his reaching out and placing a hand over her own. The act surprised her, as did the reaching out of the blonde-haired knight who'd sooner fight off the entire world than abandon her. Both of their hands were ungloved exposing the skin beneath. They were both warriors who lived their lives by the sword thus gloves remained on quite often, and when taken off usually meant an exposure of their inner selves. Those selves were being lain bare just as Rhea was doing, and it was being done to comfort her.

Such an act she was undeserving of, yet it persisted as she felt the two gently grip her hand. Hanging her head low, she felt a rush of tears on the verge of surging forth, only being stopped by a thin veil of self-control.

"Byleth…your mother's name…it was Sitri, she was…she was…she was my daughter." Finally admitted the Nabatean.

She'd been expecting the revelation to come as a shock, and the former warrior woman wasn't disappointed in the slightest. Byleth quite literally looked like he'd just been struck by an arrow, as did Catherine, whose gapping mouth was on par with her lover's. If Rhea listened closely, she could practically hear the silence of their hearts, or Catherine's heart to be more precise. Byleth's "heart" was pulsing at an erratic rate, one that she didn't at all blame it for.

"Before you say anything, please, allow me to more thoroughly explain." Started the ages old woman. "Your mother was a…she was a homunculus that I created…that I created to house the conscious and power of the Progenitor God."

"Progenitor God?" Started Catherine, her mind swirling. "Do you mean-"

"Sothis, Sothis." Finished the former mercenary. "Sothis…the Mother of All Life in Fódlan, including your race. Especially your race, including…you."

Rhea could see the pieces coming together within his mind. In spite of the potential approaching storm, Rhea couldn't help but smile. One thing she'd observed about the swordsman was that he was extremely quick on the uptake, he was intelligent. Such traits had made him an ideal instructor, warrior, and hopefully Archbishop. "Yes, Sothis, the Progenitor God…the creating of my race, the Nabatea." Feeling her blood pumping through her, she moved away her curtain of hair to reveal the pointed ears characteristic of all of her kind.

Byleth felt an uncomfortable tug in his gut as he reached out and found Catherine's hand. Instinctively, she gave a support squeeze. "Rhea, Catherine…I…I actually need to tell you both something, Sothis, she was-"

"Within you?"

The male swordsman blinked as he drew upon old memories. One in particular popped into his mind. "Suppose you knew that for a while, didn't you?"

"That was why I brought you to the Holy Tomb, it was my hope that she would awaken inside of you when you sat upon the throne."

"She? You mean the goddess? That means…Byleth, you…" Stammered the blonde looking between the two. So much information was being thrown around and it was close to straining her brain. Seemingly aware of that, the two green-haired individuals were silent as they looked to her. They were waiting for her to put the pieces together, which they had faith in her to do. Within seconds, she began to do just that. Flashing through her mind was the display of chronokinetic power that her fiancée had demonstrated and where said power had come from. "If…Lady Rhea is your grandmother, ands he's the child of the goddess, then that makes the goddess your…your…" Her shoulders fell and a look of utter bewilderment crossed the knight's face. "Well…that explains how you have the Crest of the Goddess."

"It's actually because the Crest Stone of the goddess serves as dear Byleth's heart." Rhea corrected.

"What?!" The cry of alarm was enough to nearly raise the wooden table they were sitting at. Catherine's open shock was a sharp contrast to the subtle shock that was shown on her lover's face. Taking note of his silence, Catherine turned to look at her smooth-faced beloved. "You…Byleth…did you…did you know?"

She sounded concerned…for _him_. "I…always had my suspicions." With his free right hand, he moved it over his chest, an act he'd done close to fifty times in his life. Only in the last ten or so had he begun to feel anything different. "Growing up, I was an odd boy, I didn't…feel emotions the same way other people did. No, more accurately, I couldn't express them. Sothis told me that she was likely at fault for that, it was something she…apologized for." When he looked up to Rhea, his eyes didn't shine with anger or spite as she'd feared, only a gentle longing for answers.

The ancient dragon was more than ready to give him those answers. "Sweet child, when your mother, Sitri gave birth to you…you were still-borne, a result of her homunculus body not being fully cable of giving birth to another life." She watched with great pain as a jolt ran through him, rather it was pain or relief, she didn't know. "Sitri's body was extremely fragile, fragile to the point that she couldn't leave the monastery."

Catherine winced as the pieces formed in her mind. It was painfully easy to see. The creation of homunculi had been outlawed for close to eight-hundred years; learning that her lady had broken that taboo left a mixed taste in her mouth. Ultimately though, she couldn't get angry as this Sitri was the mother of the man she loved, and sacrificed herself to ensure Byleth survived, something any mother would do of her child.

"So…when I was born…she…what happened, how did she…how was I…?" Questioned the swordsman. She was able to see the shaking that had rocked his body.

"I created her as my twelfth attempt at bringing the Progenitor God back into the world. Serving as her heart was the Crest Stone of the Progenitor God." She began raising a finger and pointing it towards his covered chest. "Your mother carried the Crest Stone of the Goddess inside of her, thus serving as her heart. When you were born and it became evident you wouldn't survive, your mother pleaded with me to remove the Crest Stone…and implant it into you."

"B-But…if she did that, t-then t-that meant…" Started the divine warrior, now clenching at his chest.

Sorrowfully, Rhea nodded, the memory of that evening replaying in her mind. Yet another thing she'd have to carry with her to the grave. "Sitri knew that she was not long for this world after giving birth to you, thus she told me to remove the Crest Stone and implant it into you. I…I did so. Once the Goddess' Crest Stone was fused into your being, you began to breath as a normal baby would." Seeing the rapid breathing of the young male, Rhea chose to stop there. It was needed as Byleth needed the time to process the information, process the fact that his mother had sacrificed herself to save him. Catherine was there to help him; it was clear she cared more for his current mental state than she did his origins.

"Was she…afterwards…was she…R-Rhea…was…" His voice was breaking. "Was she able to hold me at least once?"

Her own Crest Stone heart throbbed with sadness. "She was, she called you the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. Sitri…she…she died holding you in her arms." Rhea had remembered standing there, watching as the spark of life left her creation, her daughter, while her newly born son softly snored away the moments, completely unaware of the fact that the woman who'd brought him into the world had just passed from it. It was such a cruel irony that Rhea fell to her knees and cried at a failure, failure on a personal front just as much as a parental one. Still, she pushed on ahead and continued her confession as she met the eyes of her "grandson". "I never told Jeralt any of this. No doubt, this coupled with your oddities were what pushed him to take you and flee."

"When you say oddities, do you mean, Byleth's…stoicism?" Catherine began.

"That's what…Sothis believed. My lack of emotions…it makes sense now." Concluded the teacher of the Blue Lions House. "Basically…I'm…I'm a reanimated corpse, it also explains why I have the Crest of Flames, because I have the Crest Stone inside of my chest. Truth is…I've always suspected it. I've thought about it since I found the Sword of the Creator."

Rhea wasn't surprised to hear that. "You noticed the lack of a Crest Stone."

"Didn't meant that it was lacking power though." He offered with a slight smile. It was a dim attempt to lighten the mood, but it worked as evident in the small smile he received from the blonde beside him and the dragon in front of him. "After Sothis merged with me, the Crest Stone materialized in the sword's base giving me its full power."

"About that," Catherine began. Curiosity fueling her, she reached over and placed her hand over her fiancée's chest. As it was several times, she didn't feel anything at first…then she felt it, a pulse; it was faint, but it was definitely there, and there was something slightly unusual about it. "I can feel _something _beating there. Just…doesn't feel like a normal human heart."

"Even compared to us full-blooded Nabateans, Byleth's being is a tad bit…different." Rhea explained, her own curiosity rising as she joined the conversation. "What manifested when my Mother granted you her power was something of a projection of the true Crest Stone in your chest. No doubt when you've used the Sword of the Creator in battle, drawing upon its greater power, you've felt a stirring in your chest, a certain heat."

"Pretty much, I've gotten kind of…used to it, honestly. In fact, I find it a tad fitting." His lips stretched into a low smile. "As a mercenary, I've lived my whole life tied to the sword, with the Sword of the Creator, I guess…I felt an odd sort of familiarity. At the end of the day, I was still a warrior, a person who fought and killed."

"True, but in doing so," Rhea offered feeling a spark of hope rising within her. "You have saved many lives, including those of Catherine and myself."

"Not to mention your precious little lion cubs." As she hoped, a hearty laugh passed from his lips. Smiling, Catherine leaned over and planted a kiss on his face causing him to blush. Byleth wasn't alone as Catherine pulled away and faced the outgoing Archbishop with a shy glance. "So…um, about what you said earlier. If you saw Sitri as your daughter…then…that makes Byleth your grandson. I threatened your grandson." She repeated with a nervous laugh.

"Oh, I had a feeling you'd grow to like him." Rhea replied in a sing-song voice that furthered the swordswoman's blush. "With how much time you spent watching him, I had a feeling things would eventually work themselves out between you two."

"You knew about that!?"

The two minty-haired individuals exchanged quick looks between one another, and quickly enough laughter followed. Catherine blushed bright red as she found herself practically shaking in her seat.

"Well, in light of all of this, you can see this as also serving Rhea." Her fiancée offered.

Rather quick on the mark herself, the Sky Dragon jumped in. "Since my liberation from Enbarr, I've long since accepted a relationship between you two, so Catherine," Tenderly, she reached out and took hold of the swordswoman's hands. This too caused her to blush in embarrassment. "You have my permission to marry my grandson, so please look after him."

How she managed to speak through the flames of embarrassment, the blonde would never know. "I-I-I will! I-I promise!"

"Yes…and I'm sure you'll give me plenty of _great-_grandchildren to dot on. I missed on Byleth…but I'd like the opportunity to be a part of your family…if you'd let." Added the long-haired woman looking to her future successor. "If you chose not to include me, you…would not be wrong to do so."

"…Except I…don't have much a reason to." Came his response, surprising the Nabatean even further. Once more, her smile was sympathetic, tender, just like his mother's. "You…followed my mother's dying wish, which was to save my life, if you hadn't…I probably wouldn't be here. If you hadn't brought me on as a professor…I don't think I'd be anything more than a walking corpse." Both hands fell over his chest, where his heart lay. "Coming here to the Monastery…it was the best thing that ever happened to me, and you helped make that possible. Besides, I have very little idea of how to run the Church and could use your help. And…how to…" His eyes drifted over to Catherine, who caught his drift and blushed accordingly.

"Even though my experience in leading the Church has been…poor?" She offered.

"Everyone makes mistakes, everyone stumbles, but that doesn't mean just completely laying down and giving up." Affirmed the former mercenary, his words as gentle and uplifting as a spring wind. It was quite a thing from a man who used to inspire fear and dread when he made his presence known, and shock when he spoke. "After hearing all of that…well, you're family, and I can't just up and cut you out of my life like that."

"Even though I've taken so much from you? Even though I…was willing to potentially trade in your life for my mother's life?" She further added, shame overcoming her face.

A pregnant pause ensued in which even Catherine looked visibly ill at ease. Remembering that moment in the Holy Tomb, when everything had gone so completely off the rails had always been an unsettling feeling for her. Now, knowing all that she did…well, it just made her feel like she'd watched history unfold before her eyes and not even know it. Privately, she wondered what would have happened if Rhea's plan had succeeded and the Goddess of Fódlan had returned in Byleth's body. Where would that have left her? Where would it have left the Blue Lions who'd all come to adore their professor?

"…Well, having lived a mercenary's life…I'm…used to my life being a tradable commodity." He answered in a shockingly benign and cool voice. It caused both women to blink in surprise as such an answer wasn't what they'd been expecting, especially not delivered in such an easy-going voice. A moment later and they saw the emotion that they'd been expecting him to show. "The truth is, a part of me was hoping the ritual would work in some way because…I…I wanted to see Sothis again. I wanted to tell her how sorry I was."

"Why?" Catherine asked feeling an uncomfortable rumble in her gut.

He looked to her first, then to Rhea with shameful eyes. The disguised Saint showed another trait that they shared, likely through blood-the power od deduction.

"When you chased Solon and Kronya into the forest to exact revenge for Jeralt." There were many causes for joy when the Professor and his students returned, but for Rhea, the biggest one had been the physical change that the former mercenary had undergone. His and eyes as green as hers and the rest of her people.

Byleth nodded confirming her suspicions. It was high time she received the details of what really happened, her and Catherine who'd noticed the off-beat and sullen nature he'd had post mission. "I chased Kronya down, but one of her…allies got to her first. He ripped what looked to be a Crest Stone out of her chest and used it to cast a spell. The Spell of Zahras-"

"WHAT?!" Shouted the green-eyed woman bolting up so fast it causes her chair to go toppling to the ground. To say that it shocked the other humans would have been an understatement. "The Forbidden Spell of Zahras?! They used that spell to…" Seemingly, the picture began to come together for Rhea, the tension ebbing out of her body as she eyed Byleth with a mixture of shock and sadness.

"I…take it you've heard of the spell before? And why it's forbidden?" He asked.

"It is forbidden for good reason." She stated. Catherine rose and moved to pick up the chair for her. With a heavy sigh, Rhea fell back into it, a deep frown on her face. "Zahras…it is a dimension of infinite darkness."

"Sothis said it scared even her." He interjected.

Rhea shivered, greatly mirroring her mother's reaction which was not a fond memory for Byleth. "Long, long ago, when the goddess first descended upon the world, Zahras was said to be a 'gap' in the dimensions of reality, or perhaps an unwanted aspect of the after life for even deities such as the Progenitor God. To be sentenced there is a fate worse than falling into Gehanna, the Realm of the Eternal Flames."

Catherine shuddered. "I…think I've heard of it before. Once, back when I was in the academy doing some research for class. It's said that souls sent there eventually fade away into nothingness. Some legends say Nemesis himself had his sorcerers banish the gods he'd vanished there when he found he couldn't kill them." Looking to her husband, she felt her heart gripped by a cold fist. "And…one of those Agarthan bastards _sent _you there?"

Her answer was a grim nod. "I…was trapped. There was nothing around me but darkness, I wasn't even sure I had air to breath. It all felt like…it was an abyss, a void where I was all by myself. It made Kronya's death at Solon's hands look pale in comparison."

"Eons ago, sorcerers found a way to use the dark magic required to open up a portal to the dark realm, using it as a prisoning sentence, no, an execution, for those who committed the gravest of crimes. However, even we Nabateans found it too horrid to use, especially given our…extended lifespans." Rhea declared with a fearful shudder that was shared by the swordsman. "Still, to use the spell would require a heart filled with hatred and darkness-"

For the first time, Byleth snorted. "Kronya had all of that in spades. If I'd known any better, I'd have cut her down while she was still running away from me." Annoyance shifted in sadness as he recounted what happened next. "Sothis rather rightfully chewed me out for basically dooming both of us."

"But…you found a way out, didn't you?" Catherine pressed.

His look was one of deep shame. "…Catherine, it didn't come without cost." Next, his gaze went to Rhea, who'd likely already deduced what that cost was. "Sothis told me we could escape, but in order to do so, she'd have to give me her full power as the goddess, in doing so…she…what was left of her consciousness…it vanished. _That _was what my 'divine blessing' was." For the first time, anger showed on Byleth's face, but it wasn't directed at the dragon in front of him; it was aimed solely at himself. "She gave up whatever remained of her consciousness to save me…to save me from my own blunder."

"Byleth," Began the Knight of Seiros placing a hand on his shoulder. Though the characters were most certainly larger than life, the general set up was all too much the same. One giving their life for another to make up for a mistake they'd made. "You did what…" Stopping short, she looked to the outgoing Archbishop, remembering that she was talking about her mother, the goddess that the entire continent worshipped. "Byleth," she started again. "You did what you thought was the right thing."

"…And my mother did the right thing as well, for she knew…that no matter what, you had to return to us." Added the female dragon. Just as her grandson felt a sense of emotional liberation coming clean, so too did she. "If I may…did she mention your students as a reason for you to return to the world?"

Looking at her, Byleth was reminded that his former mental companion had been a parent herself at one point. It certain explained a great deal of things about her behavior, and how they seemed to grow closer to one another. "Pretty much. I think that might have been the reason more so than anything."

"Only one half, I believe she was also thinking of your survival as well as theirs." Chided the female Archbishop. "If she chose to sacrifice yourself to ensure your survival, then it was a choice she made of her own will, knowing it was the right one. It is a choice that has taken me some time to accept…and a choice that…I can say was the right one." The words were delivered with eyes locked on Byleth. "Sending you back with her power, it saved all of Fódlan."

"That might be stretching it." Chirped the former mercenary.

"I don't know." Laughed the swordswoman who sat between the two green-haired individuals. "Your presence has had a good effect on everyone and everything, hell, even Edelgard had an eye on you."

"A part of me wonders if knowing any of this Edelgard would back-pedal on those…affections." He wondered. The statement caused Catherine's noise to wrinkle as she threw her arms around the up incoming Archbishop whom she'd safeguard with her life. "Not that they'd be as good as the ones I'm receiving from the strongest, most beautiful knight in all the land." His reward was a kiss on the head, in full view of the woman who he personally saw as his grandmother. She reacted accordingly to the affectionate display before her. The amusement in her eyes showed that she wasn't expecting this to be the last time.

Rhea's smile held, even as the pain in her voice became evident. "Byleth…would you…like to go see your mother?"

"What?" He said, Catherine going as frozen as him in response to the statement. "You mean see her grave?"

"No, what I mean is…would you like to _physically _see her?" Pressed the long-haired woman, her hands clapped together as if in a prayer. Who it was for was anyone's guess.

Quietly, the time-bending warrior nodded, as did his lover.

The former Archbishop inhaled a steady breath. A part of her always wondered if this day would ever come and how it would play out. Another part of her had honestly prayed it never would so she could just run away from the pain. She'd done enough running as it hadn't done anything except make things worse. There had been enough running away.

* * *

Ever since she'd truly begun to get to know Byleth, Catherine had wondered what sort of person his mother had been. She had to have been quite a woman to have made the Blade Breaker swoon. Privately, she'd theorized that she must have been a tender and gender woman to balance out his gruffness; a case of opposites attracting.

From the looks of everything she'd learned in the past two hours, she'd been right, and her theory was all but solidified when she finally laid eyes on the body of Sitri Eisner.

_I was right…you do…take after her. _Mused the blonde as her blue eyes explored the surprisingly pristine body of the mother of the man she loved. There she was, arms crossed in a pure white dress amidst a bed of flowers. From an outside perspective, it might have looked like she was merely sleeping, her body looking remarkably unscathed in spite of it being twenty-five, going on twenty-six years, since she died. It looked like not a day had passed since her soul left her body.

That's all that remained-a body.

"I…didn't have the heart to bury her into the ground." Came the sorrowful admission of the minty-haired woman behind them. "I had a false burial set up for her, and her real body taken to his…chamber. It is yours to visit whenever you wish."

For a supposedly subterranean chamber, the Nabatean had gone quite out of her way to make it feel as comfy as possible. Given who slumbered there, it wasn't surprising. Light was supplied from overhead by a spherical crystal that cast a bright glow across the chamber, especially on the casket that lay in the center, elevated atop a platform ringed with floral designs. In the center of it lay a casket filled with flowers; resting atop of them was the body of the woman who'd birthed Byleth into the world. He stood before the casket, legs shaking and tears silently slipping from his eyes.

"She looks…just like me, give or take." He whispered as his tears fell without end in spite of his best efforts. The first hand that fell over him was the woman he'd fallen in love with.

"She's beautiful, and if I had to guess, she was probably just as kind and noble as you." Catherine added.

Then came the second pair of arms from his left side. "She was, even though she wasn't prone to showing emotion as often. Around the people she loved however, such as Jeralt…she had the brightest smile deeply."

Byleth shut his eyes, allowing the tears to flow more freely as he steadied himself. It helped that he had two of the most important women in his life. "She loved him, she loved my father…"

"And she loved you, from the moment that you were conceived." Rhea added, a smile gracing her face as she thought back to the fonder memories of days long gone by. Words couldn't express the joy that Sitri felt in learning that she was pregnant with the daughter of the man she loved, the man she'd married. Such blissful days seemed so distant; Rhea had learned while those memories were to be treasured, they weren't to be lost in. Looking up to Catherine, she was happy to find the knight had felt the same way. "Byleth, if nothing else, know this, you were brought into this world by two parents you loved you with all of their heart, and in this world, you are welcomed and loved."

Giving his shoulder a squeeze, the boisterous knight affectionately leaned her head atop Byleth's shoulder. "You've got people who can't live without you…so…don't get so gloomy about yourself. You're just you, and everyone around you wouldn't have you any other way."

The words caused the tears to continue to fall, but Byleth was able to smile through them. Through the light offered by the crystalline lantern overhead, he was able to look down at his deceased mother and picture her when she was alive.

"_Did she…love me?" _

"…_With all of her heart, so much so that every time I get worried, every time I see you alright, I like to think a part of her is watching out for you. A mother's love is like that." _

Love, it was an emotion that Byleth had struggled to grasp. It was only when he came to Garreg Mach did he find out how truly empowering it was, the many forms it could exist in. Parental love, the love between parent and child, it was a bond that he'd taken for granted, something he'd always regret. Along with the regret, he'd also carry the relief, and the joy, of knowing he had been the receiving of such love.

He liked to think he'd given that same love to his students as he certainly thought of them as his children, and he still did. Still, one day, when he had children of his own, he liked to think that he'd be able to show them the same kind of love.

* * *

**These last two chapters were very Byleth-centered and focused on him finding closure for both sides of his family. I went with a bit of a tragic angle for Jeralt and his side of the family, not to mention give the latter even more reason to never talk about his background. As for Jeralt's parents, Anselm is German meaning "divine helmet"; I chose to fit the weapon naming theme that Jeralt has, not to mention sort of foreshadow the fact that he'd grow up to be rather gruff but protective like his father. As for his mother, (whom Jeralt got his blond hair from), well, the name Vreni is German as well and means, "to fear" and "to respect" which I found highly fitting, especially when looking at Byleth himself. **

**On another note, I delve into a bit of fanon Fódlan history with some things like a griffin (which shows up on the emblems of Faerghus AND the Knights of Seiros implying Fódlan was once host to them) and the spell Solon attempted to use to seal Byleth away. I imagine the experience wasn't anywhere near pleasant and Byleth felt some guilt as Sothis had to sacrifice herself thus depriving Byleth of one of the few beings he could be emotionally vulnerable with. Overall, I'd say that was the guiding theme of Byleth's side of this little story, his emotional vulnerability and finding out most of the truth regarding his parents and that they really did love him.**

**Having done all of that, the next up is Catherine, who's got a bit of a stiffer hill to climb given what her past has in store for it. Next chapter expect some rain, thunder, and Byleth facing down perhaps his most dangerous foe yet! **


	4. Chapter 4-Our Then and Now

**Hello and welcome back, everyone. The last two chapters focused pretty heavily on Byleth, so from this time onward Catherine's going to be getting the lion's share of the attention. I've got some interesting things planned for her side of things so let's get started! **

**I do not own anything.**

* * *

_**Chapter 4-Our Then and Now**_

The underground chamber that housed the body of Sitri Eisner was sealed shut on Byleth's say so. Rhea had told him that he and Catherine were free to visit it whenever they liked. The latter felt a bit funny in being given access to the underground chamber housing the deceased body of her lover's mother. To be frank, she was still struggling to process all that she had heard. Catherine very much felt like she was out of her depth she was. She was a simple and straight forward person, but she knew there existed issues and concepts beyond what she was used to, that was part of life. While she might have dipped a toe at best into that side of things, she never imagined herself getting immersed in them.

That had drastically changed. As they left the underground chamber, Catherine looked several times over to Byleth, as did Rhea. Surely he knew of the worrying stares they were giving him, but he chose to say nothing about it. It was clear he was still processing the revelations of his origins, Catherine herself was still process them. While seemingly straight forward on the surface, once one looked beyond that things became…a tad more complex. Tearing her gaze away from her fiancé she looked back down the stairway that led to the hidden chamber.

It'd be a lie to say she wasn't totally unsettled by the pristine condition of Sitri Eisner's corpse. Then again, from what she understood, Nabatean flesh didn't rot, nor did it age when death claimed them. In some ways, her own Heroes Relic was proof of that, unsettling as it was to believe. What would come from placing a pristine corpse into the ground where the worms and maggots would feed upon it? Catherine felt her gut lurch in disgust at the image thus came to somewhat understand Rhea's decision. How Byleth felt about it on the other hand was a different story. One that was told when she looked back to him.

Ironically, as she was looking away, he was turning around to look back. Pain and longing was written over his face, which was prone to the blonde and the Nabatean.

"Byleth," Rhea softly began. "If you want to go back."

His head fell, then it rose. It'd taken a quick breath for him to calm himself. Catherine and Rhea knew it wasn't easy; the former had seen this expression before, namely when he was struggling to compose himself. A part of her thought it was unfair how such a stoic man had to deal with such emotionally-grappling problems. Some might have called it irony or just deserts, but the blonde could only ever see it as cruel, especially considering Byleth had already been through so much already. "I'm…I'll come back to see her, some time later on. To be honest…it might be best I not make a habit out of this." A humorless laugh escaped him causing the hearts of the two women beside him to throb in sadness. "The Archbishop sneaking off to an underground chamber to gaze at his dead mother's body. One could only imagine the scandal that would cause."

"It's not different from you visiting Jeralt's grave." Rhea argued. "If you desire it…I can make arrangements to have her…properly buried." Her words drew the attention of the two sword users. They could immediately see the pain that came with voicing the suggestion. Rhea looked to the two of them. This pain wasn't just about hers, it was about the child of her surrogate daughter, the boy whom she'd forced so much upon. "I'm well aware how unusual this is, and perhaps it would be best if-"

"No. Just…where she's at now…where she is…" He tailed off, his own emotions wrestling about within him. His fists tightened, then unwound themselves, then again and again. As he'd learned, emotions were wondrous, complex things. Sometimes they were to be loved, and sometimes they were to be hated, but ultimately, they just were. "Her souls is with my father's soul…so…"

In like a bolt of lightning, came Catherine, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Let's go topside. All that stuff, you can think about it and decide on it later on. In the light, where we all belong." Her words were aimed not just as her lover, but her lady as well. Rhea smiled, as did Byleth making Catherine's heart flutter.

Having decided on that, the three proceeded up the stairs, coming to the hidden door that they pushed open and back on the surface they were. Moving in front of the window, they found that a light curtain of snow had begun to fall upon Garreg Mach Monastery. Byleth looked to it with an easy smile. If the weather continued like this then there was a chance that all activities would have to be canceled, then again, he knew some who saw no issue with working in the snow. The woman beside him was one such person. Rather rain, sleet, snow, hail, or blistering heat, she'd do what she set out to do and think no more of it. His smile grew wider as he felt her hand slip into his and give it a warm squeeze.

"So, feel like going out and having a snowball fight?" Catherine offered with a cheesy grin. It was just the sort of thing that was needed to cheer him up.

"Not yet, not enough snow for that. Maybe later on when we've got a few feet." The minty-haired man turned to the woman to his left. "Think you'd be up for joining us?"

Rhea laughed at his question. As usual with Byleth, his words were direct and aimed at her, as a person. In response, she could give an honest laugh of her own, one that rung in the ears of the two swords users. "I'll see if I can take some time out for that. Or perhaps just be there to brew some hot tea and coco when all is said and done. The monastery's been host to some rather…interesting snowball fights over the years. Specifically, I remember the one that took place the year after you graduated, Catherine."

"Yeah, apparently the class after us were a rowdy bunch." She spoke with a lazy grin. Odds were, she'd met some of those people, and knowing Catherine, she'd gotten into some rowdy adventures with them. Perhaps Byleth could coax some of those tales out of her. "Hey, give it a day or two and maybe. The Archbishop and her successor having a snowball fight, wouldn't that be something."

Normally, this would have been the part where Rhea politely shot them down. As the Archbishop, she had too many duties to fulfil, even if she was on her way out with a successor coming in. A successor that she still had to train. She laughed and nodded her head instead, a small joy running through her. If she couldn't play with the others, a part of her wanted to watch over the as she always did, more closely than she had before. Surely she could do that, she _would_ do that.

And perhaps even she'd get the chance to indulge in some mischievous fun of her own. The thought of doing so, and the resulting look on her brother's face had her snickering to herself as she stood beside her grandson and granddaughter-in-law.

* * *

True to form, once the snow started to fall, it continued to fall, piling up upon the Monastery. Work continued, albeit as night fell things began to slow down. A cold front was setting in and the warmth was sought. Luckily, the monastery had a plenty amount in no small part thanks to a certain Almyran orphan who was proving himself to be extremely competent in keeping the Monastery's interior functions running. And at his side was a certain white-haired young Gremory whose eyes continuously lit up whenever the phrase "hot chocolate" was brought up.

By the time the sunset beneath a haze of gray clouds, a snowy layer had completely covered the Monastery and the surrounding mountains. It wasn't a solid foot of snow, but odds were by morning, it would be, and if the snow continued into the next day or two days, the entire place would be covered in snowy white. Activities such as repair work could perhaps continue, but Byleth and Rhea and Seteth were more or less leaning towards giving the residents a day or two off. The gesture would certainly be appreciated as several at the Monastery had openly stated how they doubt they'd ever see snow again. Others had said this would be the first time it snowed and shelter could be taken without fear of one's life.

Byleth heard similar feelings in the letters he received from his Blue Lions pupils. Dimitri in particular had stated they were doing all they could to ensure the kingdom was prepared for the coming winter. From all of them he'd heard of the monstrous beast that was Faerghus winters; in some years they were so bad that food shortages became an issue. In context of the war that had just recently ended, Byleth could understand the sentiment. The same went for Ferdinand and Lorenz, albeit the latter more so than the former. At best, Enbarr would face some trouble, but not much, at least when compared to the Alliance, which had been thoroughly put through the ringer. In the letter he'd received, Lorenz had asked him if he'd heard any word from Claude.

As luck would have it, as he and Catherine arrived back at their private bedroom, he received a letter signed with a golden insignia of a bow and arrow.

"Good news?" Asked his blonde lover seeing the slight curve of his lips.

"Yeah, good news from an old friend." Byleth answered with a small smile. "Hopefully there won't be any riots in the Leicester Alliance, or else least none that call for military intervention."

"I'd say Lorenz has things under control there. To be frank, I don't even worry about it. It's Adrestia that's always on my mind." Catherine responded unfastening the straps of her armor. Byleth's gaze met hers. "With winter coming, it means we're coming up on the end of the year. After that, you'll…now's the time that plans start being made." She didn't want to think about the possibility, but it was definitely there. She knew there were likely hundreds of people who wished harm on Byleth, perhaps more so than Dimitri himself. Her last expedition into Empire territory had all but solidified that fact. The swordswoman could only imagine how many plots there would be on Byleth's life once he formally took up the role of Archbishop of the Church of Seiros. Some might have found it ironic as to her, a hot-blooded warrior woman, felt unease at an approaching battle, but even Catherine had her limits. Not to mention some life-or-death struggles weren't meant to be enjoyed, namely those that involved a loved one's life. Deep down, she knew it was best to avoid those kinds of confrontations; unfortunately, that wasn't always possible thus her presence was needed.

When she next turned her gaze outward instead of inward, Catherine realized that Byleth had picked up on her inner pondering. He stepped forward, his ungloved hand rising and caressing her cheek.

"How are you handling everything?" Asked the Faerghus-native placing her own hand on top of his.

Byleth laughed. "You're dodging the question I'm about to ask."

She couldn't help but laugh back, as well as melt into the warm feel of his touch. He sometimes mused about how many lived he'd taken as a "heartless" mercenary, yet Catherine and several others had told him how warm his hands could be. "Between the two of us, I think your emotional state is what we should be worrying about." Holding onto his hand, keeping it on his cheek, she moved the two of them over to the edge of the bed. "If you want, I don't think anyone would mind if you took a day or two off for yourself."

"And for you." He added with a somewhat humorous laugh that she echoed. "Maybe that's…for the best, but if I do, all I'll be able to think about is everything that I heard. That my mother was created as a container to house the progenitor god and that ultimately she…gave her life to save mine."

"Which is something any mother would do." Catherine injected. She moved her hand from his face down to encircle his waist. This time it was her pulling him in close. "You can take a day off and the world won't come to an end, ya' know. You've…you've done so much for everyone that I'm pretty sure we can handle ourselves for a day or two."

The former mercenary quietly digested the words. He was pretty sure that if any of his students were here, they'd probably be agreeing with the Mortal Savant, even pushing for him to take her advice. "I…suppose that might be true." The admission was surprisingly easy to get out, in fact, with came a sense of release almost. A similar sense of release washed over the tan-skinned woman beside him. "Catherine…I…do you think…when my time comes my body will be like my mother's?"

"Surrounded by flowers? You'll have earned it." She answered.

Byleth smiled at her attempted jest, but pressed on regardless. "I mean, do you think I'll just…not rot." Having grown up on the battlefield, there were certain things that Byleth was disturbingly used to. Blood and corpses were one of them. At the age of thirteen he'd learned to tell how long a body had been dead just by looking at it. It was a frightening ability to most who knew nothing of the battlefield. Decay was a part of the natural life cycle, but as he'd learned, Nabateans functioned on a somewhat different cycle. They could live for thousands of years as evident by Rhea and Seteth and Flayn and even the goddess that formerly inhabited his mind. But they were not invulnerable. Long-lived, yes, but not invulnerable, not outside the swing of the reaper's scythe. His eyes grew heavy. "Sothis…she was already a spirit when I met her, then she just…would you believe me if I told you sometimes I can swear that I can hear her voice? Still nagging me?"

The blonde laughed. "After all I learned today, I'm willing to believe just about anything. Besides, she's the goddess of Fódlan and…" A pregnant pause filled the space between them. Catherine had told him that ultimately, her true faith lay with Rhea, more so than with the Church's teaching. She'd laughed at the hypocrisy when she recounted how she'd once threatened to cut Shamir down for voicing her skepticism in regards to both. The fact that he comforted her afterwards was one of the first signs that he was perhaps the man met for her. "I won't pretend to know all that much about gods and how the soul works…but from what I understand, so long as that Crest Stone hums with power, so too should her spirit. Personally, a part of me likes to think that she's still watching over Fódlan, through you." Cradling his face, she pressed her lips against his. What started out as a gentle kiss quickly grew into something more as they found themselves eagerly going at one another. Briefly breaking for air, the pair laughed as they sat sideways on the bed.

"Have I gotten better at kissing?" Asked the future Archbishop with a shy blush that was mirrored on Catherine's cheeks.

"Pretty sure that's supposed to be my line, but to answer your question…" The kiss that came next was shorter, but in no way lacking in vigor. "I can get used to kissing you for the rest of my life. Scratch that, I already decided that's what I'll do."

Reaching out, the younger male brought the Faerghus woman in a close embrace she happily leaned into. Neither of them were quite dressed for bed and exhaustion was sitting in. They could just outright fall asleep like this and be none the worse for wear when they woke up in the morning.

Often, when he found himself in doubt, the company of another proved a suitable remedy. Byleth realized that was the point of companionship, arguably even the point of human existence. No being could live their life alone, not even a god. Did Byleth consider himself a god? No, far from it. If he were a god, then there was so much in his life that he could change, so many things he wished he could do. In some ways, his lack of "true" godhood was a blessing; deep down, he didn't want to be a god, he just wanted to be someone who could help the people around him. That was arguably one reason why he'd been able to accept Rhea's decision to be her successor. Then again, it wasn't like there were many other candidates out there. He'd tried to suggest Seteth, but the male Nabatean had given sound reasons as for why he was better off as the "hand" instead of the head, oh, and the fact that Byleth was a widely beloved war hero whom would be more readily accepted than anyone else.

Becoming a war hero was something else he didn't ask for, something that he never expected. He'd spent his whole life fighting, meeting several war heroes, and even battling some. Not once did Byleth ever think he himself would become one; he didn't believe he could ever do anything to warrant being called one. How far he had come.

Catherine raised a finger to quietly stroke her lover's minty-green strands. Admittedly, she'd been curious about exactly what his "divine revelation" had been like that caused his hair to change colors. Needless to say, she'd gotten a bit more than what she'd bargained for in an answer; needless to say, she'd gotten a lot more than what she'd bargained for in a lot of categories. It still crossed her mind how she basically threatened Rhea's grandson, who was in some ways the _great_-grandson of the goddess of Fódlan. Really, Catherine would have laughed if she still wasn't struggling to process it all. She'd heard of marrying into odd families, but she was sure _no _noble in Fódlan would have dreamed of something like this. And it was happening to her of all people!

On some level, she knew that were any of the information revealed to her ever to get out, it would cause…quite an uproar, and not just for political reasons. She couldn't even begin to count the number of noblemen and women that would be clamoring to set up their daughters with Byleth, who possessed not only the Crest of the Goddess, but one could argue that any future descendants of his might also possess the Crest of Seiros. Technically speaking, the blood of Saint Seiros also flowed in his veins.

That was another interesting little topic of discussion that could take up a whole evening. The fact that the woman she'd dedicated her life to was really thousands of years old and actually a dragon. All of that was still part of the whiplash effect she was feeling.

And yet none of it weighed as heavily on her mind as the mental serenity of the man who was in her arms. Catherine suppose that made her a simple woman, or as Seteth had said, "A noble one." It was clear that on some level, he was expecting rejection, as was Flayn, who came to her after the reveal. The fish-lover breathed out a sigh of relief when she told her that the revelation of their true nature didn't change how she looked at them, as friends and comrades. It felt good to be on the receiving end of a surprise hug from her.

"Catherine?"

"Hm?"

"Think we should probably get dressed for bed?"

"Yeah, probably, not that going to sleep like this would be too bad." The blonde laughed.

It was obvious that he knew when she was watching him, their relationship couldn't have progressed if he didn't learn how to pick up on her presence. What made it click was that he _didn't mind _her watching him; in fact, Byleth outright told her that he actually found amusement in it. She'd blushed like a schoolgirl hearing that; that was another aspect of their relationship, Byleth's benign ability to turn her from a composed warrior into a flustered schoolgirl. That had not dissipated now that they were engaged. At the very least it meant that she didn't have to hide herself when stealing glances at him, too much.

Of course, the sentiment cut both ways as Byleth himself had a habit of letting his eyes wonder over to Catherine as she undressed and made ready for bed. Unlike most women, she didn't wear a nightgown, even though she herself was a noblewoman by blood. Her night clothes were much like his gray pants and a loose tunic that was ideal for sleeping in, albeit maybe a tad too little for the coming winter. Luckily, she had him.

Given all that had happened today, it wasn't a major surprise that Byleth was the first to fall asleep. Catherine was happy to hear him lightly snoring away the night. She would have followed after him had her blue eyes not caught sight of the sparkle of the ring on her finger. Again, like a smitten school girl, she'd take the time to gaze at it in pure amazement of what it was, what it meant. She was going to marry Byleth, that was all but certain. Her mind flashed to images of the possible wedding. Of course, the Blue Lions would be there, if Dimitri had to make up a new national holiday to attend the professor's wedding then he would. All of the teachers and monastery residents would attend as well.

It then hit Catherine that _she _was getting married. Her, Thunder Catherine…Thunderstrike Cassandra. Somewhere deep down, she was _still _Cassandra.

She had a family in Faerghus, a family she'd beseeched to aid them in the still recently ended war. A father whom she had gone to and begged for military aid, he'd given it providing them another key component in turning back the Adrestian Empire. Her gut lurched at the memory.

"_Just…Ca-Catherine…as your…"_

"_I promise I'll be careful. I promise you, father, I will return to face you alive and well." _

Those were the last words spoken to her father, whom she'd admittedly bene yearning to see even if a part of her had dreaded the encounter. Things hadn't exactly gone as back as they could have, though Catherine was willing to chalk that up to the fact that they had a war hanging over their heads preventing certain things from being said. Now, the war was over with and everyone was busy picking up the pieces of the aftermath. She was doing that by getting married, something that her father and grandfather and grandmother would no doubt be overjoyed to hear. Not to mention her younger brothers and sisters, she couldn't deny them the act of being able to come to her wedding.

A voice in the back of her head told her what she was also avoiding listing-children. If she and Byleth remained together, there was a possibility that children would come somewhere down the line, children birthed by her. Children carrying the blood of Charon just as much as they'd be carrying the blood of the goddess. Such children…didn't they deserve to get to know her side of the family? Would her family even still accept her after everything that had happened?

The question would nag at her for the next three days as Garreg Mach Monastery became completely covered in snow.

* * *

Snowball fights had happened, and everyone had gotten their fill of them. Byleth and Catherine had of course joined in the fights as well, enjoying themselves to their fullest just like everyone else.

Late into the evening, they, along with everyone else, got quite a surprise when Rhea herself decided to join. And promptly showed everyone that yes, even a "delicate and frail lady like her" knew quite well how to throw a fast one. Several including Byleth himself could attest to that fact. Catherine watched her fiancé go down in a heartbeat, then looked to his grandmother with a look of complete shock. Rhea seemed rather amused, and even seemed to be toying with rather or not it was worth it socking her in face as well. Catherine threw her hands up in surrender, which resulted in her getting nailed on the side of the face by _Shamir_.

Before she knew it, glops of snow were being scooped up into her hand, shaped into a boulder-sized ball then hurled at full force. The Dagda woman laughed as she rolled out of the way, scooping up two small snowballs herself and returning fire. Catherine had a new target to focus on. Her lover rose, wiping the snow off his face before shooting his grandmother a dirty look. As his lover had a target in mind, so too had him.

When all was said and done, Cyril was quite proud that once again, all of the wood he'd taken the time to chop was put to good use in keeping the fires burning for cooking and heating. The young Almyran himself was certainly in need of them as he'd gotten quite involved in the day's snowball fights as well, as had his girlfriend, Lysithea.

As they all huddled together in the aftermath to warm themselves up, Byleth took note of the distant look in his future wife's eye. He quietly filed it away and put up a front as dinner set in. In contrast, the glint remained in the blonde's eyes. Whatever was eating up the female knight, it was staying there, quietly consuming her. Byleth wrestled with rather or not it would be worth it to say anything about it. He could have sworn a nagging little voice in the back of his head told him that as her future husband, he would have to eventually say something.

There turned out not to be a reason to as Catherine beat him to the punch.

"I want to go see my family." She said point blank upon their return to their shared room after dinner to prepare for bed.

Byleth looked at her, naked confusion covering his face. "Um, okay. Catherine, you know that you…don't have to ask me for permission to do such a thing."

Somehow, her words took some of the wind out of her sail. She sat back down on the edge of the bed, a cross look spreading across her face. She didn't even look up to Byleth as he undressed himself. When he sat down beside her, she finally did spar him a glance; it was one laced with anxiety.

"The last time I talked to my father or any of my family was during the war, and that's over with. Before I…I mean, I at least sent them letters to let them know I was doing alright." Blue eyes looked down to her knees, which were being gripped by her hands like vices. "I…it wouldn't be right for us to get married and them not know about it."

"I'm pretty sure they'd find out about it. That is unless you want the marriage to be a secret." Offered the young male.

"No! Never!" Exclaimed the knight, throwing her arms around the younger male. He was a tad bit startled, but in no way disapproving of the act. "I…I…" It was a blessing that he couldn't see her face, Catherine wasn't sure she wanted to Byleth to see her looking so…needy, almost. "Your have family in Lady Rhea, Seteth, and Flayn, and I…I have two younger brothers and sisters, two of whom have the Crest of Charon like me. Heh, my younger brother, my twin brother…he has a Major Crest of Charon like me."

"You told me about him, that you two fought to decide who would be the one to wield Thunderbrand." Mused the green-haired former mercenary. It wasn't that hard for him to imagine what Catherine's twin brother would look like. He actually knew his name, Cyprien, he'd heard tale of him during the war. Part of the reinforcements sent by House Charon; he was a strong enough warrior in his own right, one who was as strong with a sword as he was swift on a horse. Catherine had told him that between the two of them, he was the better horseman, that he had always been gifted in horseback riding thus was the leader of his own specialized cavalry unit. "Any chances he won't be too angry about you getting Thunderbrand?"

The humor in the laugh that followed was something of an answer unto itself. "Oh, trust me, he's not that broken up about it. The truth is…about two years before you came to the Monastery he stopped by and we had a bit of a heart-to-heart. Bottom line, he was happy that I wasn't using it as a tool of intimidation to rob innocent folks on the highway." Briefly, the bright blue eyes that sparkled with life dulled as she recalled one of the darker portions of her life. "That was…well, we put that issue to rest. Cyprien told me that so long as I held onto Thunderband and kept my 'Warrior Spirit', then he had nothing to worry about and would try to tell the same to my father." The pause that came told Byleth that things hadn't been that simple. Rarely was anything involving family drama simple. "Looking back, I was pretty much a coward in hoping that he'd settle the whole thing for me." Another pause, this one marked by a heavy sigh that ended with Catherine standing up. "I've been a coward for a while now."

"Catherine." Byleth began only to be stopped by the look in her eyes. He'd always been attracted to her eyes, pools of sapphire that could shine with rage and joy in great abundance. At other times, they could twinkle with thoughtfulness that their owner sometimes remarked wasn't normally like her. That was a lie as like many people, Catherine was fully capable of giving serious thought to certain matters. When those matters were personal, well, it resulted in what Byleth saw now. Silently, he watched her undress herself. There was no enjoyment to be taken in it for this wasn't a time for gawking, it was a time to listen and console. One could say that it was also practice as when he formally assumed Rhea's title, he'd be doing a lot of that.

"All those years ago…when I came back to the Monastery after having my name tarnished…I buried who I used to be. Odds are Dimitri never told you about it, but I told him that I was perfectly fine living as Catherine of the Knights of Seiros serving Lady Rhea." Looking back on it, Catherine was sure that one reason why she'd been willing to carry on such conversations with the prince was because Dimitri had returned to a far more grounded state of mind. Such a thing had been a blessing for them all. Deep down, she also thought that she caught onto the bitter irony of their situations, he was doing everything he could to move on from his past and she had told herself over and over again how she'd discarded it. The difference the people in her past were still alive and well, still thinking about her. "I may continue to live as Catherine…but a part of me will always be Cassandra Charon, a woman who still has loved ones whom she hasn't really spoken to in years. I'd like to do something about that before that year count goes up by one."

The male swords user was silent as he was joined in the edge of the bed. Once again, the blonde's head fell against his chest.

"I want them to be able to call you family as much as Lady Rhea does." She said in a whisper. Hearing his breath catch, she reached over and intertwined their hands together. "I mean, I know technically speaking, I'm marrying into _your _family, but I…I want you to be able to call the territory of House Charon home and my family…well…geez, I'm mucking this up, aren't I?"

"N-Not really. I-I get what you're saying." Answered the former professor, his cheeks inflamed for a number of reasons. "I-It's just…well, would your family accept me?"

"Why wouldn't they?" Catherine inquired with a smirk. In a smooth yet seductive transition, she laid him flat on his back while she hovered above him. The look in her eyes could best be described as a mixture between lust and genuine affection. Byleth had to admit he was slightly turned on by it. "You're the former teacher of the now King of Faerghus, chosen successor of Lady Rhea, reclaimer of Garreg Mach Monastery, Champion of the Goddess, _great-grandchild _of the goddess-"

"Think we might want to keep that part a secret for a while." Byleth interjected with a slight smirk. "Until maybe…I don't know, after the wedding?"

"Sure thing." She laughed before leaning in close enough that their lips were centimeters apart. "But most importantly…you're the man I said yes to." With that, she closed the short distance between them resulting in a kiss that had the couple rolling across the sheets. Breaks for air were marked with childish giggles between the two of them, which ended with their lips pressing back up against one another. They ended up back at the center, having kept from falling over the edge. "I've seen you interact with people; you'll do great."

He chuckled at the irony of her statement. Everyone kept saying he'd become a gifted communicator, but Byleth himself still felt like he failed to see the truth of their words. "Well, this time I'll be presenting myself before your father and siblings, all of whom I have to win over, so there's that pressure."

"More pressure than ensuring that the best and brightest of Faerghus' youth, including its future king, do well academically, and manage to survive?"

"Catherine, my job can be very stressful." He said with a dry smile.

Giggling, she planted a light kiss on his cheek. "Ah, poor thing. I'll be there with you every step of the way, so don't worry. At best, you might have to duel my father and maybe even my brother to get their seal of approval. Actually, you probably will since House Charon-"

"Handles ceremonial combat." Byleth interrupted with a bit of a pained look. Make no mistake, he had no issue with fighting, in fact, he lived and breathed combat, even now as he moved onto what he was hoping would be a more peaceful way of life. Now, when it came to said fighting…well, Byleth didn't like to verbalize it, but he had _tastes_.

Catherine, being the person she was, had picked up on what those tastes were. "Oh, relax! It's not like you're going to be made to wear some fancy suit of armor and have your every move be as dramatic as possible! My father hates stuff like that, and so too does the rest of my family. We can tell when someone's faking it." Explained the Faerghus-native. Rolling over, she stared at the ceiling, her mind drifting back to her younger days. Funny as it was, her life was panning out _somewhat _how she hoped it would. "Growing up in House Charon is probably where I learned to be so observant of everything and everyone around me."

"Ah, so that's how you got good at stalking." Byleth noted with a lazy smile which caused his lover to giggle, then jab him on the side of the arm. "Sounds like it's a family trait. Will I also have to worry about weapons being thrown at me?"

"Maybe during the inevitable sparing match, otherwise, you should be good. Besides, I've decreed that no one gets to throw stuff at you except for me."

"And when exactly did that happen?"

With another childish giggle, Catherine threw herself onto the formerly stoic swordsman. Going from serious to happily entangling themselves in one another's embrace. It was moments like this that made all that they had lived through worth it, and made them more willing to endure any struggles that awaited them. Byleth knew that come what may, he would face any danger if it meant he could continue to live on, with Catherine at his side. Likewise, the blonde Faerghus woman had long since resolved that no matter who stood before her, she'd protect Byleth with her life. And she would do all in her power to ensure that the normally stoic swordsman remained in her life, after all, he was a vital part of it.

* * *

_**Two Days later…**_

"Alois, focus please." Spoke the future Archbishop in his characteristic monotone.

The cape-wearing knight didn't seem to detoured by his tone of voice, but he did at least register his words. It took him a moment to recompose himself, and even then Byleth could see the excitement in his eyes and hear it in his voice. "Well, I don't know much about the nobility about Faerghus, but I certainly do know a thing or two about men, and asking a man for the hand of his daughter in marriage. In fact, I may know a bit more than even your father himself!"

The magical swordsman laughed; Alois might have meant it as a joke, but he had been intentionally right. As he'd learned close to a week ago, his parents' relationship hadn't exactly been ordinary. Where as his father never had to go to anyone for his mother's hand, Byleth was having to go through the entire process, and with a nobleman's daughter no less, and there was the added baggage of several years distancing he was likely going to have to unpackage.

"First and foremost, I'd say this, don't build yourself up too. Albeit, in your case, I'm sure that's next to impossible since you're a world-wide war hero." Declared the Adrestian native. "I wouldn't say make yourself seem too humble, if you don't assert yourself a little then you won't get anywhere. Oh, I got it, make sure to be formal! Especially since you'll be dealing with nobility! Nobility that you'll be marrying into, er, well, sorta. It's not like you'll be taking up the Charon name, will you?"

"Catherine made it clear she's got no problem with taking up my last name." Admitted the former mercenary with a lazy smile.

"Then it'll be the birth of House Eisner! The Captain would be so proud!" It was the second time he'd said that. The first time was when he revealed that he and Catherine were engaged. Byleth reached over and placed a hand over his mouth to keep him from saying anymore. Even if it was snowing, it was still the middle of the day and some had decided not to let the weather detour them from getting some work and training in. Alois had been one in the latter group, thus here he was at the sparring ring. "A-Anyways, b-back to the original topic at hand. Make sure that you're dressed accordingly for the occasion, and when the time for dinner comes, make doubly sure that you remember your manners! All of this is important since you're dealing with nobility!"

"Yeah, I've gotten that." Byleth noted remembering the conversations he'd shared with his students regarding Faerghus culture. Faerghus folk were a warrior people, but they were also a cultured people; they'd worked hard to develop their own traditions and identity after breaking off from Adrestia. Byleth had gotten snippets of it during his teaching tenure, and then again, with the war. He'd picked up where he could and now was the ultimate time to put it all to the test. "From what Catherine told me, I'll be in for a fight."

"Just make sure that you don't draw blood." Alois warned to which Byleth laughed.

"Catherine told me that if I go that route, all I'll end up doing is making things worse for myself, and Catherine." A lackadaisical look came over the young divine warrior. The sky had been a gray sheet for the last three days, the snow waxing and waning. Quite a few had decided to wait it out indoors, while others had decided to keep on moving. Rhea had taken the opportunity to "tutor him" in the ways of politics and diplomacy, things he would need once he assumed her position. He'd also told her what he and Catherine were planning, where they were going. "She said that it'd be somewhat fitting that by the time we get there. The territory of House Charon, it rains quite a bit there, and at this time of the year it can turn into snow or freezing rain."

The older man looked to him with a confused look. "And you're okay with that? You could end up getting stranded there, and even end up missing the Millennium Festival!"

Looking back at the axe-user, he held up a hand were a flame lit up his fingers. The glow illuminated his face, youthful and devoid of scars or wrinkles. If one went by looks, it was next to impossible to tell he and the late Blade Breaker were related to one another. "Getting snowed wouldn't be so bad if she's with me. Heh, or if I have to watch myself while around her family. Maybe spending the extended time with them could be a good thing."

"Heh, you know, over the last few months, I've noticed how more optimistic you've become. It's quite a thing to see." Laughed the older man then patting the younger swordsman on the back. "Keep that attitude, it's part of what makes you who you are, and why we all believe in you! I'm sure that attitude will be enough to win over Lord Charon and the rest of the family! I'll be rooting for you!"

"Alois," Byleth said with a smile that ended with a huff of cold air. "Thank you, the encouragement means a lot." Rising, he held out his hand. "Now come out, I think we've done enough practice sessions for the day. Let's head back inside and warm up, huh?"

The two men made tracks in the snow, which had grown to cover all of the Monastery and mountains. Their laughter and chuckles manifested as clouds of see-through air.

* * *

"So, you're…really going back, huh?" Shamir noted stepping out of the shadows.

Much like everyone else, the archer had to buddle up for the cold weather, but that wasn't what was surprising. What was surprising was that she'd even stuck around. Not that Catherine was complaining.

Looking to her best friend with a lazy smile, the swordswoman crossed her arms and held her head back. "Guilty, but don't worry, it's not like I won't be coming back. That is unless Byleth decides that he'd rather remain in my family's turf than the Monastery."

Shamir was silent as she digested her words, picking them apart piece by piece. Catherine could see it on her face, after all the years they'd spent watching each other's backs, they'd grown accustomed to reading one another.

As usual, Catherine was the one who got the ball rolling. "You're surprised that I mentioned him instead of Lady Rhea, aren't you?"

"Pretty much, you made it clear she's your reason for existing." Her feet crunched the snow under foot as she made her way over to the blonde. Gently, she reached out and stroked the dark brown mare that she'd just returned from riding upon. The Dagdan archer looked up to the knight with a faint smile. "But now she isn't your only reason for existing."

"Heh, no. I…to be frank, I have a lot of reasons to exist, to keep myself alive." Laughed the swordswoman. "One of them being you." As she expected, her words caught the blue-haired woman off guard. "Hey, don't look so surprised! You're my best friend! Someone I know I can always depend on through thick and thin to have my back, even if I can't see her with my own eyes." Shamir recovered quickly; she returned the sentiment with a light smile. "I have…maybe it took the war to help me see it, but…I have a lot of things to live for, and one person in particular."

"It seems everyone around here really has changed…and it's all thanks to the Professor. I suppose that just makes him more qualified to lead the Church of Seiros. Speaking of which, are there still plans to put it off until the beginning of next year?"

"Yeah, that's how things are shaping up. New year, a new start to everything." The blonde affirmed as they began to leave the stable, their boots leaving footprints in the snow. "Shamir, when Byleth is formally given the title, you'll be there, right?"

"Depends."

"Oh come on! It's Byleth!" Exclaimed the knight, her previous composure going out the window. "You're just as much as part of our little group as everyone else! Hell, you keep on coming back to the Monastery over and over again, granted I'm sure some of it is because of me, but still!"

"We're talking now and little more than a month away. A lot can happen then." Replied the blue-haired archer in a flat tone. It belayed the emotions within her, emotions that Catherine had picked up on. "Seeing him…seeing everyone so happy…it wouldn't be so bad."

"Would you…come back if it meant…seeing…me happy?" Catherine questioned in a surprisingly shy voice. Shamir breathed out as she looked to her. The former noblewoman gave out a huff, then put her hands on her hips. "Now look, surely you know that Byleth and I are engaged, and yes, we're going to be getting married next year."

"Seteth will be the priest and Dimitri will no doubt be the best man. I'm sure the whole of the knights and the Blue Lions will carve out enough time to attend the ceremony." Spoke the Dagdan woman. She grew uncomfortable as Catherine continued to stare at her. Quickly, Shamir turned away. "You'll have your father to walk you down the ale, and your family will be there so…"

"I'd like my sister to be there too." Noted the swordswoman taking a step closer.

It made Shamir feel a bit uncomfortable. "You'll already have your blood-borne sisters and Lysithea so-"

The gloved hands came down on the shoulders of the archer, shocking her. One thing that always caught Shamir's attention were Catherine's eyes, bright as sapphire and always so clear and focused. It was fitting for a knight, but when it was coming from Catherine as a _person _it was a bit much to digestion. "I'm talking about all of my sisters, my blood-borne sisters, my adoptive little sister, and lastly…my sister in arms."

Shamir was silent for several minutes as the snow continued to fall around them. A thick cloud of cold air was expunged from her lips along with a thick sigh. "If I refuse, I'll never hear the end of it, will I?"

"Nope!" Catherine stated in a sing-song voice that both annoyed and amused Shamir. Ultimately, it ended with the blonde wrapping her arm around the younger woman. Yet again, all Shamir did was laugh.

"Hey, just make sure that you manage to come back from your homeland. And make sure to bring Byleth back with you in one piece; I don't think people around here will be happy if the 'Hero of the Goddess' comes back missing a limb or two."

"Hey, it's me. Hell will freeze over before I _ever _let anyone or anything happen to Byleth."

"Even if it means giving up your sword?"

Years ago, such a question might have caused a stir in Catherine, but not this time. She looked up to the cloudy sky with an easy smile. "If my father demands I give up Thunderbrand, then so be it. Besides, considering where it came from…perhaps one day sheathing it for good might be the best thing." Shamir raised an eyebrow at her words. "Hey, while it and my Crest sure do pack a punch…it's _me _that's the fuel behind them. My soul is the thunder and lightning in the storm that'll ravage anything and everything that threatens the things, the people, I care about."

Silence hung between the two ladies. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary for them as Catherine had gotten used to Shamir going silent after she'd given her piece. Sometimes, it was a trait she was happy for.

"Those words…spoken like a real knight, I guess. A knight that's worthy to guard the future Archbishop." Said the archer as they arrived at the dining hall.

Catherine quietly smiled at her best friend; however, nervousness laced her expression as they made for the door. "What about…as a…wife."

"I can't say that, I've never been married." Came her immediate response, then sorrow laced her own eyes. "But I know that as a person…you're relied, capable, honest, and straight forward…those are the kinds of traits I'd want in a romantic partner, and I'm sure Byleth would want them too." A light jab to the side made the blonde laugh. "Besides, didn't he give you a ring as a token of his love for you? Actions always speak louder than words, especially with people like us who don't do much talking."

Those words in her heart and mind, the pair pushed through the doors into the dining hall. It seemed they'd be sharing another meal between each other, as comrades, as friends.

* * *

**I'll stop there for now. Originally, this chapter was supposed to introduce Catherine's family, but I decided to go a more personal/relaxing route, especially in light of recent events. Something a tad more peaceful definitely feels like it could be useful right about now. The catalyst for Catherine choosing to go visit her family was planned to be Rhea explaining Byleth's origins; the Cindered Shadows DLC helped things along. I'm pretty sure you can't walk away from seeing your future mother-in-law's pristine corpse after learning she gave her life to save her child; such a thing can make you reevaluate your own family ties. Next chapter will see the introduce of House Charon and Byleth presenting himself! Until then, and stay safe and healthy, everyone! **


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